On Physics, Evolution, And Other Magic
by Doctor Yok
Summary: In a summoning ritual gone wrong, several Exorcists are accidentally transported to Wichita Falls, TX in the present day. Can they return home with the help of an ex-witch police intern and a physicist, or will a mysterious witch coven kill them first?
1. Strangers In A Strange Land

For the four of them, it was a normal day. The sun was out. The birds were chirping. The air was clear and crisp. The trees swayed in the England breeze, and the picturesque setting was just one of many that they'd already visited. A small village of thatched roofs and pastures rolled along in the distance. Livestock trundled away from the foursome, and clouds drifted along the blue sky.

And they were fighting supernatural creatures that had Gatling gun attachments and nasty superpowers to boot.

It _was _a normal day, after all.

"Get out of my way!" Lavi hastily sidestepped as Kanda thrust a sword straight through the midsection of an Akuma, and the redhead squeaked as he realized that he'd been mere milliseconds away from being impaled.

"Ne, Yuu, careful with that thing! Hell, you nearly turned me into a shish-kebab!" Lavi complained as he twirled his hammer around a finger. Allen flew past the two, and he smacked into a tree. Lavi winced in sympathy, and Kanda merely scoffed.

"Glassy-eyed little -"

"Ouch. Poor Allen..." The aforementioned white-haired Exorcist stood up and brushed himself off with a huff. The Akuma that had thrown him, a Level Two that looked like he belonged in a carnival rather than the Devil's army, flexed one of his massive biceps. Already in a tiff, Allen gave a small, polite sigh as he revved up his new arm. It'd been just a few weeks since he'd gotten the upgraded version; memories of its evolution were still ingrained in his head.

"Lavi! Pay attention! Idiot Apprentice!" Bookman suddenly came in, flying from above, and he landed swiftly on top of Lavi's head with both feet. Lavi pinwheeled, attempting to stay balanced with the old man's shoes firmly planted on his cranium, and he protested loudly. Allen was momentarily distracted by the shenanigans of his fellow coworkers, and so he completely missed the Akuma suddenly slashing his way towards him. Luckily, Allen had enough foresight to realize that it was going to charge, and he leaped up and over the Strongman abomination.

"Geez! You guys are loud..." Allen muttered under his breath as he slashed the Akuma open and killed it, releasing the trapped soul bound to the body. Kanda gave his usual input, a sharp 'tch', and Allen surveyed the area. His monocle-eye had reverted back to normal, so that must mean there weren't any new Akuma in the area.

"I think that's all of them," Allen said, and Lavi finally lifted Bookman off of his head.

"Let go of me! I'm your master, and I refuse to be manhandled!" Bookman protested, completely livid. Lavi rolled his one eye, and he said, "Hey, I think I've got a right to manhandle you when you're _standing on my skull._" The Junior Bookman put his elder on the ground, and Kanda was already beginning to walk towards the village.

"We'd better get moving," Kanda shouted over his shoulder, and the three looked at each other. What was his rush? Maybe he just wanted to get back to the Order, though that was awfully strange for Kanda.

"You think he's hungry or something? He's not usually this hasty," Lavi noted, staring after his friend. Allen shrugged, and he said, "I don't really care. We can stick around for a bit, and he can go back. I want to see what's in the ruins. Isn't that what this place is famous for?" Bookman shifted his aching feet.

"Yes - Blarney castle isn't much farther than a day's walk, but by the time we get there it'll be nightfall. I have to agree with the swordsman. We should head back. The church will have an Ark opening waiting for us. No need to dally," the old man grumbled, walking in the same direction that the samurai had taken. Lavi scratched the back of his head, fingering his headband, before he said, "I have to agree with them. I don't want to be caught in the ruins in the middle of the night, and I _really _would rather not be in the woods that late either."

"Still remembering Crowley's castle?" Allen joked as they began walking. Lavi shuddered playfully.

"Yes. A Bookman's like an elephant. He doesn't forget things. Even if he wants to," Lavi said, a note of remorse in his voice. Allen frowned as he stared at his friend, but he was duly distracted when he noticed that Kanda and Bookman were standing the middle of the road.

"Hey, what's the hold up?" Lavi asked curiously, and Allen noted a strange smell in the air. It was like... like a mix of juniper, tar, and... something else. Something... something very old. He couldn't put his finger on it, but he _knew _that smell.

"You smell that?" Kanda asked. Lavi took a sniff, and he began noticing it as well. Bookman's brow was furrowed deeply with lines of consternation and swift memory.

"We need to leave. Now," Bookman said, beginning a fast pace down the road. The other three followed suit, the hairs on their arms standing at attention in apprehension. Some deep part of them recognized this smell, and that deep part was mighty unhappy to be there at that moment.

"What's the matter, Jiji? I don't remember anything like this," Lavi asked in their language, catching up. _Even if I feel like I should,_ he thought to himself.

"It was before your time, Apprentice. There was a war, like always, and this smell..." Bookman trailed off as he thought, and Lavi knew that it had to be bad if _Bookman _of all people was worried. Not much phased the old guy, but when it did that meant it was something pretty spectacular. The air suddenly turned cold, and Allen whispered, "There's something wrong here..." Kanda grunted affirmation as the wind moaned through the trees.

Before anyone of them could react, a massive rip opened and swallowed them. On the inside there was a massive nothingness, so massive that it engulfed them completely and utterly. It was a suffocating place, as if they were being stretched and squeezed and pushed and pulled in different directions all at once.

And then, almost seemingly out of nowhere, everything reverted back to normalcy with a resounding _wump._ All four landed on their backs and stomachs as if a giant had picked them up and thrown them back down. Kanda immediately attempted to stand, but his feet seemed to slip out from underneath his body. He fell down in a disoriented pile, and he grumbled, "What... the _hell _was that!" Bookman lifted himself on hands and knees, panting. Lavi rolled over onto his stomach with a low whine, his head ringing. Allen had curled up into a ball, his head nearly tucked between his knees as he groaned. The world seemed to be spinning ten times faster than its normal rate.

"Did... was that Road? Is she messing with us again, or what?" Lavi asked, scrambling to get on his feet as he realized that they could very well be attacked in the next few moments. He keeled over to the side, landing in a pile of trash. Kanda sat up against a wall, and all four Exorcists sat there with their heads reeling and their hearts hammering.

They were in an alleyway between two buildings. It was fairly wide - there was enough room for a small automobile to pass through between them, granted the tin lizzie was stripped of its siders and mirrors. They weren't sitting on cobblestones, however. It was some strange sort of black concrete, though grainier and less uniform. It was rough, not at all like any concrete or cobblestone or regular quarry stone that they knew. Trash was everywhere, but the trash in itself was strange. Most of it was made of a clear type of material that was almost like glass, but more flexible and not sharp. There were wrappers of a kind strewn about that looked like they were made of metal.

"Don't worry, young apprentice. This is no trick of the Noah," Bookman grumbled, grunting as he stood up. He wobbled and swayed, but he managed to remain upright. Kanda, not about to be outdone by a man probably three times his age, stood as well, but he required the help of a wall. Lavi didn't even try. He sat up clumsily and began to crawl over to Allen.

"Then where are we? What just happened?" Lavi panted. His head was still spinning, and the world continued to tilt to the left. He felt disoriented and confused, but he was beginning to regain his mental capacities.

"I was once in a war that constituted of two factions, both of them... very volatile. That smell was very close to a marker that showed where one faction had occupied due to their use of their chosen weapons," Bookman ground out. "They used magic, but they required specific rituals in order to access it. We must have been caught in some sort of residual deposit."

"That doesn't answer where we are," Kanda said. Lavi looked over Allen with a furrowed brow. The younger man was sweating profusely, and he looked ill. The redhead attempted to get him to his feet, but Allen seemed to be stuck in a stupor.

"Well... we can find that out shortly," Bookman said, eying the trash. He quickly began to rifle inside one of the broken bags lying in the accumulated refuse. He noted that the bag itself was made of a strange material as well. It was a black, stretchy sort of fabric - no, it was not even a fabric. It was a continuous, single whole, and yet it stretched like elastic. Bookman sorted through broken pieces of a strange, thick papery material (which he attributed must be some sort of cardboard), paper fliers, and bottles. There was a lot of food, all of which he recognized (thank whatever higher power there may be). Finally, he found what he was looking for. It was a local flier, from the looks of it, but it was printed in a strange, smooth ink on pink paper.

" 'Relliner's Deli - open all day every day... Ah. Walston's Street, Wichita Falls, TX. We're in America," Bookman mused quietly, and Kanda noted incredulously, "We shifted that far?"

"You shouldn't be surprised," Bookman grumbled. "The Ark has taken us farther." Kanda rolled his eyes, hiding his chagrin. Lavi looked perplexed as he shifted Allen into a position where he could lean on him.

"But... Bookman, Wichita Falls -"

"I know, Lavi. I know." Allen finally seemed to snap out of his comatose state to gasp, "What's the matter? What about Wiki...Chiwi... whatever city we're at?"

"Wichita Falls is currently an itty bitty town in Texas in 1865. Allen, does this look like an itty bitty town?" Lavi asked. Kanda shook his head.

"What if it's a flyer from some other city? And it just ended up in the trash?" Kanda asked. They fell silent as they thought about that possibility.

Huh. They hadn't considered that.

"Where ever we're at, it's not any place we know. Look at these," Bookman said, pulling something else out of the trash. It was a long string with a little, metal bit sticking out on one end that had painted, imbedded rings around it and two white buds branching off from the main string. It was made of something white and rubbery, but it didn't _feel _like rubber. It was a little too soft and springy to be the vulcanized rubber that they were used to.

"Maybe they just have better technology than we do. America _is _pretty advanced..." Lavi said, but skepticism colored his voice like a rainbow paintbrush. Kanda suddenly began to walk down the alleyway at a loping shuffle, bobbing and weaving as he tried to get his sense of balance back. It was starting to worry him that he hadn't gotten his sense of coordination sorted out yet. Usually his body regulated these sorts of things much faster.

"Kanda, where are you going?" Bookman asked. Kanda answered over his shoulder, "I'm going to figure out where the hell I am. Unlike you losers, I don't dig around through trash; I ask people where I am." As the samurai continued down the alley, Bookman and Lavi looked at each other. Allen clung heavily to Lavi, his breathing becoming shallow and his skin taking on a clammy feel. Lavi cast a worried glance at both his compatriots, one going away and the other clinging somewhat desperately. Bookman started to follow Kanda, and Lavi followed behind.

"Any idea where we are, Jiji?" Lavi asked in a laborious voice as he tried to walk and support Allen while keeping his balance. Bookman was quiet for a time before saying, "Yes. I have many ideas. I don't like any of them." That did nothing to comfort the redhead as they made slow progress around a corner. Kanda's plodding, but quickening, footsteps seemed to echo ahead of them.

"And Allen? What's wrong with him?" Lavi inquired, natural curiosity blending with ill-hidden concern. Bookman cast a rather harsh glance at Lavi, and the young apprentice realized that he was becoming too attached again. Bookman, however, seemed to pardon the breach in detachment, and he answered, "Dimension sickness. He'll be fine in a day or two." Lavi didn't ask how Bookman knew. He'd long stopped asking how the old man came to know certain things.

* * *

><p>In a dark room, a young woman sat and waited, the smoke clearing from the room as a fan sucked it into a vent. The candles shuddered under the sudden intake of air, and the young woman's brow furrowed as nothing happened.<p>

The circle inscribed in the floor in front of her remained completely inactive. Her eyes flashed as she wondered what she did wrong.

The coven had retrieved everything she'd needed - live budgies and several different rats, a stray cat, even a _child_for some added oomph, pig tallow candles, several different herbs (three of which were technically illegal in the United States of America, but who cared about that?), the necessary spell books, a metal drawing rod to create the circle, _everything._ She'd even gotten rid of a few people she'd been meaning to deal with to get the energy needed for the stupid summoning.She'd done exactly as the books had said, and yet somehow, nothing was happening. There'd even been the corresponding smells of juniper, crushed bone, and old blood with a hint of overturned earth, and there was _absolutely nothing in the circle. _The summoning had somehow been... misconstrued. At the very least, it had been inconvenienced. This was very distressing, however. Whatever she'd summoned was out and about now.

The young woman brushed back dyed black hair, her whitened face growing whiter as she stood up and raced around the ten-foot diameter circle drawn in the floor of the main summoning room meant specifically for this purpose. She muttered to herself, going over the points of the circle where she'd placed the appropriate articles meant for summons. Here was the jasper, here was the sapphire, here was the Book, here was her hair for binding, and here was -

She stopped, staring at the last point on the circle. At that moment, the lights turned on as a young girl of probably fourteen asked, "Iris, when are we having dinner? Josey and Cora won't stop whining, and -" The younger girl's eyes widened as she realized that she'd interrupted something. The young woman on the edge of the circle had her jaw set tight, and the intruder slowly began to back away.

"Daphne. Stop where you are," Iris ground out. The fourteen-year-old stood still, her blue eyes bigger than dinner plates. Her bottom lip began to quiver as fear washed over her. She usually didn't fear her coven leader - but seeing her like this, radiating displeasure like some sort of beacon of hate, had awakened a deep seated terror. Iris turned around slowly, her smile plastered to her face like a sickly sweet painting that seemed... _off _somehow.

"When was the last time you were in here?" Iris asked. Daphne scrambled for an answer.

"I-I w-w-was trying to r-read and I kind of... I knew that... Iris, I just need to - OW OW, STOP STOP STOP! THAT HURTS! _LET GO!_" Iris dragged Daphne by the hair a point on the circle and forced her to her knees. The younger girl cowered on the ground as Iris twisted a fistful of the girl's blonde and brown hair. She let out a whimper as Iris hissed sweetly, "See those? I believe they're _yours._ Do they _look _fa_-__mil-_iar to you?" Daphne's eyes sprouted tears, blurring the cover of the three manga books that she'd left inadvertently on top of a spell book in the summons room.

The faces of three characters, one a redhead with an eyepatch, the other with hair that was almost blue and looking dour, and one with bright gray eyes and white hair, seemed to stare at her noncommittally as if to say 'we have nothing to do with this; this is your fault and yours alone.' Daphne scrambled to take back her hair, but Iris' grip was strong.

"Do you _know how many different people _I had to have _Darius_ _take out _to get enough power for this circle?" Iris asked, suddenly yanking the younger girl's head up so she could see the sacrificial ring of the circle. Inside, she could make out the bodies of several birds, a cat, and what appeared to be a human doll, though it seemed much too lifelike.

"You just ruined about an entire year of planning, requisition, and soulmongering... so don't expect to get off easy. You break it, you bought it, _honey_," Iris whispered in Daphne's ear. The coven leader let Daphne drop to the ground, and the younger girl curled up in a ball of pain, fear, and self-debasement. She shuddered under sobs, and Iris caustically sniffed, "Quit your whining get to dinner. Tell Josey and Cora to suck their own spit or get their stupid transfig spells right so they can turn floppy disks into toast and eat that. God, why I stay with you people is beyond me."

Daphne got up tearfully and walked out of the room with her head bowed low. Iris made sure give her a swift slap to the head as she walked out. Daphne didn't even squeak. When the door had closed, Iris rubbed her chin in contemplation. She'd trained them well. They didn't even bother to fight back. That was good - it made them easier to work with. After all, coven leaders needed three things from their respective charges - obedience, love... and fear. Without any one, the entire coven fell apart. It seemed that Iris wasn't such a bad coven mother after all.

She picked up one of the manga books lying in the spot where her main spell book on Hell's regions was supposed to have been. It appeared the sheer mass of pages had somehow overrode the main spell book. Magic could be funny that way.

She read the cover to herself. "-Man?... Sounds horrible." She flipped through several pages of the volume, skimming the art. She quickly became bored, and she dropped it casually back into the pile. She must've summoned that universe's characters or things from that universe. This was going to be a right pain to track down. She couldn't attempt a summons unless everything from the first summons was sent back. It would void the contract made with the circle, and voiding a contract on a circle was as good as putting a fully loaded gun to your head and pulling the trigger in a game of no-win Russian Roulette.

She began to walk out as she listened to the chatter of girls. Her eyes traced the outlines of the iron-chip circle she'd made with her metal smudge rod. She'd have to get the sacrificial stuff cleaned up tomorrow. Any of the girls walking in and finding this would end in utter mayhem. From now on, the summons room was off limits. She turned off the light and walked out, closing the door with a smack of finality.

* * *

><p>"This... wasn't what I was expecting," Lavi panted. They'd stepped out into some sort of neighborhood. Cars were everywhere, but they were... they were so <em>different. <em>If Lavi hadn't seen early prototypes of Ford's tin lizzies, he'd have no idea what these vehicles were. They were streamlined, nearly bulbous. He shifted Allen again, noting that the younger boy was beginning to falter. At one point, Allen had literally fallen over completely, and if Lavi hadn't been there to hang on to him he would've fallen straight into the gutters of the street. Kanda was already in the middle of the strange, concrete road. He was conversing with someone wearing odd clothes.

It was a man of what looked to be Hispanic descent wearing an odd sort of sweater with a hood made of a seamless fabric that wasn't wool and wasn't cotton, pants that sagged like a skirt around his buttocks, and shoes of the strangest sort that looked to be made of a type of thick material tied with laces. All together, he didn't look very friendly, especially with how he glared at Kanda. Then again, Kanda himself had a glare on his face more often than not, so maybe that was just how the stranger looked.

"Why you askin', huh, man? Are you yankin' my chain?" the other man asked defensively, and Kanda grounded out, "Just answer the question. Where am I?" The stranger spit on the ground.

"54th and Stemson Street," the man answered begrudgingly. He stuck something in his ear, the same sort of white bud-on-a-string that Bookman had pulled out of the trash, and he began to walk away. Kanda narrowed his eyes, and as he began to walk away he accidentally knocked his shoulder into the other man, brought on by the sudden loss in balance from the dimension jump he'd suffered. The other man stared wide-eyed as Kanda realized what he'd done, and he said, "Hang on a second -"

"Aw, hell naw, man, I ain't doin' this -" Kanda instinctively gripped the handle of his sword, and the other man, seeing the move towards a weapon, immediately reached underneath his sweater for something. Kanda, realizing what was going on, freed the sword from his sheath, deciding that he wasn't going to be afraid to use a weapon in a place where Akuma could potentially still exist. Lavi watched the entire thing with an air of apprehension, and his single eye grew as he watched the other man pull out a large, heavy black pistol. Though it was much blockier and starker than a revolver, Lavi still understood the basic function and look of a gun regardless of time or place.

"Kanda! Careful!" Lavi warned as the two faced off.

"You put the sword down," the Hispanic warned in fluent English. Kanda continued to stand his ground.

"You put down the gun, and we'll talk about me putting down the sword," Kanda ground out, his eye twitching. This was getting really old really fast. People were beginning to peer in from different windows and doorstops, and Bookman felt a little bit uncomfortable in this suddenly tense atmosphere. The place had the feel of a war zone despite lacking all of the usual features of a battlefield. They were drawing unneeded attention.

"H-hey, guys, can we not do this right now?" Lavi asked, and both stalemated men shouted in unison, "NO!" They stared at each other before returning to glaring. They looked odd, one with a long coat and a sword, the other wearing a hoodie, baggy jeans, and wielding a gun. For several tense seconds, they stood like that, and Lavi wondered if they'd ever move. The Hispanic guy finally started to lower his gun, and he was like, "You know what, fine. Ain't my problem. You want my advice? Get out of here, and quick. You guys look like wackos and nerds - they'll eat you up here."

"Who will?" Kanda asked, suddenly interested. He'd never heard of a nerd or a wacko, and it didn't sound good, but he was interested in what sort of person would want to attack a man with a sword. It might make for an interesting fight.

"What are you, from Mars? The gangs, dumb ass!" the man said. All of a sudden, a car started, and the exhaust let out a loud crack of discharge as the car backfired. Instinctively, the man shouted as he let off a loud shot, and Kanda, also on instinct, deflected the bullet - straight into Lavi's side.

The Bookman Junior's eyes grew wide as he realized that he was bleeding profusely from a hole on the right side of his abdomen. The Hispanic man was beginning to curse vehemently, and he stowed the gun and ran.

"Lavi!" Bookman shouted as Lavi collapsed to one knee. Allen woke up with a jolt, and he gasped, "What the... huh? What's going on?" Kanda stared in amazement as he realized that he'd accidentally injured his comrade. Finally catching up to that fact, Kanda hurried over as Lavi keeled over in pain. Blood was beginning to pour out in earnest now, and the people who'd so curiously looked out the windows were retreating.

"Hey... Hey! I need help over here! Someone call a doctor!" Kanda shouted at the apartments lining the street. No one answered.

Snapping into action, Bookman sat Lavi down as he began to pad the wound with strips of his sleeve.

"Wow... that actually hurt. Heh, not anything like when I was little, though, huh, Bookman?" Lavi said sardonically, wincing as the stinging sensation began to soar. Allen was amazed that Lavi could be so glib, but then he remembered that Lavi had been in more wars than most men saw in a life time. He was probably used to being shot at... or being shot.

"Pft. This time, you won't be ripping out my hair. Not if I can help it," Bookman grumbled, though Allen could see a trace of concern run over his lined face as he continued to apply pressure. Lavi was slowly draining of color. Kanda was knocking on doors and asking for help, but for the most part he was getting blank looks and apathetic ignorance. After five minutes, he finally came back and said, "Someone's sending for help. Managed to get a hospital." Kanda fidgeted, undeniably restless by the fact he had to stay in one place and that one of his (dare he say it) f-...f-...fri-... compatriots could be dying.

"Geez, Yuu, you're not going to even say sorry? That hurts," Lavi joked, trying to bring some levity to the situation. His shirt was stained a deep red by now, reaching up to his chest. How much blood could one person hold? Kanda didn't even look at him as he said, "It was an accident. I don't have to say sorry, you idiot." Nevertheless, both Bookman and Allen noted that Kanda had not protested to the use of his given name, a telling gesture.

By the time an ambulance arrived, Lavi was nearly unconscious, and Allen was sweating profusely as his strange malady continued to assail him. Bookman took care of the conference between their group and the men who had stepped out of the large, strange car. It didn't look all that different from a regular ambulance, save the difference in color, body design, and equipment. The fundamentals were all still there.

"And you say this happened about forty minutes ago?" the man asked, rubbing his forehead. He carried a small, metal notepad with a metal spiral through the top as well as what appeared to be a pencil made of some sort of clearish, hard material that needed to be clicked in order to work. He wore a strange uniform of a white collared, pocketed shirt, white hat, and light pants over the same, strange rubber shoes with laces.

"Yes. Forty seven minutes ago, to be exact," Bookman said as he watched his apprentice loaded on a very complex looking stretcher. Yes, the fundamentals were all the same... Hopefully, the complexity of the technology matched directly with their efficiency.

"You'll need to file a police report once we get you all to the hospital. Your friend there doesn't look good either. You sure you don't want him checked out?" the man asked, and the small geriatric shook his head pensively.

"We know what ails him, and it should pass in the next day," Bookman answered. The two watched as Kanda and Allen were also put inside of the ambulance.

"We're allowed to come along?" Bookman asked. The medical technician nodded.

"Luckily, there aren't that many of you. We usually only allow one member, but seeing as the three of you look a little lost, we can probably take you back to the hospital to get sorted out. Besides, uh... where are you from?" the tech asked, suddenly curious. Bookman imagined that a man in his profession probably saw all sorts of people and problems, most of which were hard to explain or at the least gruesome enough (or illegal enough) to warrant turning a blind eye.

"We're from... abroad. We apologize for the inconvenience."

"No, no, that's fine with us. Though, as a word of advice, I think it'd be best if you moved to a safer neighborhood. It's getting dark here, and it gets even rougher at night. You all look... vulnerable," the man said, a distinct twang to his voice. Bookman nodded.

"We hope to receive lodgings somewhere in the city. We are... very lost. We arrived here by rather unconventional means," Bookman said, hoping that perhaps this man could give him ideas on where to begin searching for a cheap, clean place to sleep. A mission, perhaps, or a shelter would be good. The med tech was not overly verbose about it.

"I don't know. The hospital may be able to put you up for the night, but after that you'll be on your own. That man of yours needs first aid. Which reminds me, we'd better go," the medical technician said, and Bookman followed suit as they headed towards the ambulance. He looked behind him, surveying the quiet street. In the distance, he heard a single gunshot in the night, and despite his habituation towards gunshots, he felt a shiver pass through him. Memories flooded back, especially concerning the roots of his hair where it had barely managed to grow back after Lavi had nearly ripped all of it off. Seven year olds had a surprisingly firm grip.

He climbed in the waiting car, and they left.

* * *

><p>"Hey! Hey, Miles! Get over here for a minute," Kincaid yelled out into the hall. Miles, a young woman of probably nineteen, brushed back a strand of straggling, wavy hair with an exasperated sigh. Kincaid was her mentor, and he was notoriously lazy. If he was calling her over, he wanted her to do something.<p>

Or he wanted to make certain, suggestive comments about her back end. She didn't mind the back end comments as long as he admired without getting touchy-feely, but she hated juggling all his legwork. It was tiring.

She waltzed into his office, a desk in the midst of a small, glass-plated room. She crossed her arms, and she shifted her weight to her left leg. These days, she favored her left more and more, and Kincaid had begun to notice with that perceptive look of his. Still, he made no comment, and for that she was grateful.

"I've got a police report going on down there in the hospitals, and I want you to go and do it for me. I'm a little busy tonight," Kincaid said, throwing a stress ball in the air and catching it. He was a thin faced, long-toothed man with blond hair that was beginning to gray around the edges of his temples, a long patrician nose, a thin though wide mouth, and eyes that were like chips of glass when he was focused. Miles didn't mind him too much. In fact, most of the time he was downright pleasant to work under. His unfortunate habit of commenting on her dress and appearance was definitely outweighed by just how easy it was for him to teach her the tricks of the trade. Wichita Falls had just begun a mentoring program, and Miles was the first to try this new system. So far, it was going pretty good.

Well, when she wasn't being run to death across God's green earth. It seemed that this wasn't one of her resting periods.

"Why are you sending me? Isn't that a suit job?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. Most of the pencil pushers were the ones who took police reports anyways, and besides a hospital could just fill out the form and turn it in. They didn't need a uniform down there to look over the thing.

"Well, see, I'm thinking that this is one of _your _cases," Kincaid said, leaning his head to the side. The two shared a look, and Miles swallowed. Ah. It was one of _those. _

"What makes you think that?" she asked. He handed her a file, and she took it. It wasn't hefty, probably only eight pages long. She flipped through, seeing names she didn't recognize, but... the other details were telling.

"Darius?" she asked quietly. Kincaid nodded.

"They were in very close proximity. And I know how you feel about Darius and his little gang of thugs down there in their Little Corner of Heaven," he said, smirking as he used his rather ironic euphemism for the seedier part of the city. Miles nodded.

"What makes you think this is one of her doings?" Miles asked. She glanced at her watch. It was nearly seven o' clock. Cam was going to be pissed if she didn't come home before nine. She'd promised to help her with her algebra homework. As much as Miles loved her little sister, that didn't mean she wasn't a freaking pain in the -

"Because all of these are pretty similar to _another _case I'm sure you're very familiar with," Kincaid said, and Miles closed her eyes. She opened them again, flashing hazel as she finally admitted, "Fine. I'll go see to it. Though this is probably a false alarm."

"Think of this as a hunch," Kincaid said. Miles rolled her eyes, and she began to walk out.

"Hey! You forgot something!" Kincaid shouted, and Miles looked back in confusion. She'd carried everything out of his office...

He held up a strip of paper with a number on it, and he said, "What, you don't want my number?" She rolled her eyes, and she left behind a wake of snickering other young police officers and clerks. She was the butt of their department's jokes, but she took it in stride. At least she was chummy with everybody, more than she could say for _some _people.

As she walked outside to her car, she felt a weight settle in her gut. She didn't like this in the least. She didn't like this at all.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **This is a sort of crossover/AU-ish story, but it will not go into the crossover section as it doesn't cross into a known literary universe, just the one that I've created for purposes of plot. Hopefully, this is a good kick off, and I'd like to tell me how you enjoy it so far.

As with every story, I will have discussion questions. For this one, I want to know: would you like more canon characters besides the four already included? Is there anything in particular that you think would be funny? So far, what are the high points of this chapter? Is it a good beginning? Have I stepped into the realm of horrible AU/Crossover fiction?

Please and thank you! God bless and good reading.


	2. Encounters of the Magical Kind

The hospital room was just like every other hospital room that Lavi had ever been in - antiseptic and falsely cheery. Kanda was asleep in a chair while Allen explored the confines of the bathroom from his perch near the toilet. Dimensional travel obviously didn't sit well with the young Exorcist. Bookman was filling out paperwork as well as he could down the hallway at the nurse's station, though even from his spot in bed Lavi could see that the old man was struggling with it. Largely becoming bored, Lavi looked around his hospital room, hoping to find something of interest. He sighed to himself, leaning into the fake, papery pillow at his back. He decided that the best thing he could do right now was to count the number of holes in the strange, white tiles that made up the ceiling. It'd be a while before he'd be able to move anywhere, especially with his drugged state.

The hospital orderlies had numbed his side with a local anesthetic that he didn't recognize before working on the bullet wound. Interestingly enough, rather than dig the bullet back out the green-uniformed staff just left it in and started giving him blood and some sort of clear liquid through a tube in his arm. And _then _they'd stitched him up around the bullet and slapped a strange sort of thick bandage with sticky adhesive around the edges to his side_. _He'd asked for an explanation, and the answer was pretty straightforward.

"It didn't hit anything vital, so you might as well leave it as it is. It won't interfere with anything. You'll just grow right back around it, and it'd do more damage digging around for it." Medicine could be mighty strange. Now, he was just sitting in bed, waiting. He didn't hurt at all, mainly because he was on enough pain meds to numb a horse, and he was awfully bored. Counting holes wasn't working very well to entertain him. He'd already been doing that for the past thirty minutes, and he hadn't gotten very far. He had already pestered the orderlies about what all the machines were, too, and he'd even pushed the call button to ask a couple more questions, which very obviously annoyed the nurse who'd come down to check on him. That left him one option: waiting.

Lavi looked around for something to do, and finally he found it. The nurse had left a pen on the little stand next to his bed. At least, he thought it was a pen. It _looked _like one. He picked it up, clicking it experimentally and finding that it had a retractable nib. He started to scribble on the stand, and black ink with a strange texture drawled out on the fake wood. He smiled, a mischievous glint in his eye. He looked left, then right, making sure the coast was clear, before he crawled out of the bed and dragged his IV stand with him. He made sure to keep it from squeaking, and he headed towards the sleeping swordsman across the room.

After several minutes of gleefully drawing on Kanda's face, Lavi heard clomping footsteps down the hall. He raised his head like a startled deer, and he scurried back to the bed. Crap! What if it was one of those doctors? They'd probably tell him to go to sleep or something. If they were anything like Matron...

He shuddered at the memory of the Infirmary's Head Matron just as someone opened the door to his room. Lavi looked up, and his good eye just about popped out of his head.

The (very female) intruder was dressed in serious attire that looked akin to a man's pantsuit with smooth slacks and a jacket along with a white shirt, but it was stylized to show off the feminine figure of the wearer. It was open at the neck, revealing a modest chain, and his eye finally traveled to her face. She was tall, nearly Lavi's height and most _definitely _taller than Allen. She was flat-chested with long, long legs, and lanky arms ending in spindly, graceful hands and fingers. She looked awkward, though, like she wasn't used to her height, and it took a moment for Lavi to realize that she was staring at him.

"My face is up here, hon," she said, and he practically had to will himself not to drool. She walked over, a clipboard in her arms, and as she got closer, Lavi studied her face. Her visage was long and oval with a slight curl to the lip. Her small nose turned upwards almost to the point of looking like a pig snout, and Lavi had to say that was kind of disappointing. The bridge of it had been broken at some point, too, so it was crooked. Her eyes were a pensive sort of hazel color, and her hair was wavy dishwater blond pulled back into a bun. She looked tired and rumpled, almost restless.

"My name is Officer-In-Training Gale Miles, and I'll be filling out your incident report with you. Usually the force don't take the incident report - the hospital does - but we do routine checks like this just in case. Name?" she asked, and Lavi's brain fought to catch up. Blood loss and distraction were pulling his mind in thirty different directions like dogs on separate leashes. He blinked as he mentally kicked himself into action.

"Lavi. Uh, do you need a surname?" he asked, used to these sorts of proceedings. She looked up with a raised eyebrows at the name, and he guessed that Lavi was not exactly a common name. He should've picked a different one... She shook her head as if to say 'alright, your shtick, not mine', and she sighed as she scrawled it down.

"Last name would be good, yeah. Just for purposes of documentation," she stated with a little, weary smile that was most usually found on the faces of overworked waitresses, managers, and assistants who were pulling too many hours with too little thanks. He could relate, especially considering his job got basically _no _thanks, and he gave a smile in return.

"Johnson. My family's kind of uninteresting. My grandpa's back there filling out paperwork," Lavi said, using a common tactic that entailed Bookman and himself taking on the family name which could easily lead to dead ends. She glanced back, and as she did she caught a look at Kanda's newly decorated face.

She pointed at him with her pencil, and she asked, "You do that yourself?" A little bit of familiar sardonic humor crept into her voice, and Lavi felt like he was making progress. After all, the first step to getting the girl was making her comfortable, right? He joked with himself about it internally as he smiled triumphantly.

"The best is yet to come. I'm waiting for him to wake up," he whispered conspiratorially, and she nodded. She wrote down his name and 'surname' before going through the usual questions. Was he married? She hadn't expected him to be. Where did he live? Ah, a nomad. Those were scarcer than hen's teeth. What was his profession? He was a student - no surprise there. When was he born? Where was he born? He gave another two false answers. In reality, Lavi hardly remembered when and where, and he didn't care to remember either. Though he noticed a strange look on the woman's face, she scribbled both of the last answers down. She asked for a phone number, address of residence, and contact information, and Lavi gave her puzzled looks when it came to giving email. She skipped that part.

She began to ask questions relating to the incident, and Lavi internally panicked. Normally, a swordsman fighting off a gunman would be considered cool, or at the least normal, where Lavi happened to live. Here, it seemed that a swordsman fighting off a gunman would get _both_ partiesarrested faster than ink could dry.

Lavi gave a slightly doctored tale of events, picking out just enough of it to make it believable but not enough that it gave the _actual _story away. It was Lavi's expertise, after all, to know what a doctored report looked like - he could just as easily come up with one as well. After she was done writing everything down, Kanda stirred at the sound of a cart bumping into a wall outside. He rubbed his face blearily before groaning, "Where am I? And who are you?" Miles raised her eyebrows and said, "Obviously not a morning person. Or a 'waking' person, either." Kanda glared.

"This is Missus Gale Miles. She's helping us fill out the incident report," Lavi told him, hoping to defuse the situation. He could taste the antagonism in the room. Being a cop-in-training, Lavi could tell that Miles had already pegged Kanda as the dangerous, belligerent type, and Kanda, used to dealing with authority, had tagged her as the type he should disobey at all turns. There just needed to be a spark, and the room would turn into a magazine on fire. Kanda, however, seemed to be more worried about other matters as he patted himself down and realized he was no longer in possession of his sword.

"Where's my sword?" Kanda muttered, looking behind him. Lavi winced. That could be... disastrous to explain, but it would only make matters worse to leave him in the dark to rampage.

"They don't allow weapons in hospitals here, Kanda. It's standard procedure, apparently," Lavi said, and he caught Gale's confused look. Kanda scoffed, and he headed out the door.

"I'll go and tell them were they can stick their 'procedure'..." he growled under his breath, and when he'd finally gone, Lavi let out a loud guffaw. His laughter was infectious, and Miles found herself tittering as well.

"I'm sorry. I-I-I couldn't could it in..." Lavi snickered. He fanned himself to try and calm down.

"I can't take him seriously with...pfff... with that mustache and ... hehehe, the monocle," Miles snorted, putting a hand over her mouth to try and stem the flow of mirth. She snorted raucously, and both seemed to stop laughing in surprise before laughing even louder than before. Lavi wiped a tear from his eye, and he asked, "Is that all you needed?" Miles nodded enthusiastically as she looked down at the list of information she had in her lap. She sighed.

"Yeah, that's all of it -" Suddenly, the door was thrown open, and Miles stood up instinctively, one hand already on a can of something at her waist. Lavi stared at the can in curiosity before turning to the person who'd so rudely entered.

"For the love of Pete, you know I had to spend money on a bus fare to get here? Sheesh. You said you'd be home by seven! This homework's not gonna write the answers by itself!" Lavi stared in surprise.

A girl of probably fourteen or fifteen stood in the doorway, and she was probably the strangest young person Lavi had ever seen in his life, and he'd seen some pretty weird people. Obviously, teenagers changed significantly from one dimension to the next, because Lavi was pretty sure the ones on their side of the world coin didn't wear their hair in bright colors, wear tight pants, or dress in dark, somber hues with whimsical, bright patterns on them. She looked like something out of a novel.

Her hair was technicolor with strands of blue and green across a field of brown. It framed a heart shaped face sporting a small nose, brown eyes, and a thin, almost crooked mouth turned down in an annoyed frown. Her clothes consisted of jeans so tight around her legs that he could actually see the shape of them, a t-shirt with a horrified orange staring at a glass of OJ screaming "MOTHER!" and a black jacket cover in neon stripes around the arms. Her shoes were the same, strange rubber stuff with insets of canvas, from the look of it, that tied with laces. It took him a while before he noticed that, again, he was staring. Much like her predecessor, she made a comment.

"What, you never seen a girl before? Sheesh, weirdo," she muttered. Lavi could see the resemblance between Miles and the girl who'd just walked in, and he assumed they must be sisters. He was, of course, correct. As Miles led the girl out of the room, they bickered in low voices.

"It's not even seven yet."

"It's seven thirty! You're _so _late. You're _always late._"

"I am not _always late -_"

"You were late for my recital."

"...That was one time."

"_Both _recitals."

"Okay, two times."

Lavi shook his head as the conversation headed out the door. He leaned back on his pillows and decided that was enough excitement for one day. He finally got his wish. He wasn't bored anymore.

* * *

><p>"Look, just stay here a minute, and I'll help you later," Miles said, sitting her sister down in a chair next to the hospital room of the victim. As her younger sister sulked, he looked back nervously at the redhead in the hospital bed. He looked awfully pale, but that could just be the blood loss. Her friend Cris had said that he'd taken a gunshot wound to the side.<p>

"He got lucky. It passed by all his major organs, and it got lodged right next to his stomach in the normal pad of fat around organs. His buddy with the white hair looks like he just has a bad case of motion sickness, though it's the weirdest case of motion sickness we've ever seen. The other two are fine, but we had to confiscate the sword on the long-haired guy. Sheesh, I've seen odd people come into the ER, but this takes the cake," Cris had noted when Miles had asked about the patients, and the woman mulled it over now as she walked back to her friend.

Cris was a woman of short stature with streaks of gray through her brown hair despite her young age. She leaned against the nurse's station, keeping a cheery, crooked smile on her face as she chatted with one of the nurses. Upon catching the eye of the officer-in-training, Cris stood up straight and halted her conversation. The nurse in question went back to her work, knowing that it was best to leave police-work alone and not get involved. Cris walked over to Miles, and she said, "Hey, bud, what's up?" She had a throaty, scratchy quality to her voice that gave it a purring quality, a trait that helped calm patients and therefore usually put her in the children's ward more often than not.

"Nothing much. Has the older guy filled out all the paperwork?" Miles asked, cutting to the quick. Cris asked the nurse something, and the nurse readily handed over a packet of information. Cris flipped through it, pursing her lips as she went through photos of the wound, information on the patient, and finally reaching the contact and personal info at the back.

"Walk with me," Miles said, and Cris nodded. A doctor almost walked up to Cris to reprimand her for talking with friends during work hours, but at the sight of the police intern, he immediately redirected his course, and Cris smiled with a crooked twist to her mouth. The scar that went through her top lip stretched her smile in odd directions.

"It's good to be friends with you. Even Carson can't touch me," she quipped, and Miles rolled her eyes.

"Focus. What's the info on them? Do they have places to stay, anything like that?" Miles asked. Cris narrowed her eyes.

"Says that they're wanderers. Just came into the US, don't have anywhere to stay. Lost their passports and paperwork, and now they're stranded. The guy in the bed is named Lavi, and the old man calls himself Terry. Family name is Johnson. Didn't even put down a date of birth or location of origin for the grandson. Don't have email, no phone, no addresses... These guys practically don't exist. They're mightily screwed," Cris muttered, whistling low at the lack of info given. Miles thought about it for a while, trying to make sense of it.

Four guys with no home, no papers, and hardly any idea about modern things like email, Mace, and blood type just show up out of nowhere. She had a sense that Lavi had been lying to her, and the old man's lack of info on where Lavi was born and his birthdate just compounded that, though the old man could just have forgotten from sheer age. He definitely _looked _old enough. Of course, when Miles had passed by the old man's eyes glinted with a scary sort of intelligence, and she'd quickened her pace as she'd walked towards Lavi's room...

"Why ya wanna know anyways? Oh, wait, it has to do with... ah, Gale, you're not seriously going to get mixed up in that stuff again, are you...?" Cris asked, a concerned tightness contracting around her eyes. Miles sighed. Cris knew about her connections with the gangs in the inner city. Miles' past wasn't exactly a secret to most, nor was it spotless, and a lot of people chose to deny her sudden change from sinner to saint. Cris, however, knew Miles' vendetta against most of the gangs, though the hospital intern had the hunch that she didn't have the whole story yet. There were lots of holes, and Cris'd rather keep it that way.

"Yeah, but it's not what you think. These guys aren't part of a gang, even if the long-haired guy had a weapon. This is something completely different," Miles said nonchalantly, pulling back a strand of hair. "Besides, I think they're completely harmless -"

Miles opened the door to the patient's hospital room to find the victim being choked by the long-haired fellow with the art canvas for a face. Her eyes widened while Cris muttered, "Harmless. Yeah."

"K-k-kanda, gentle, gentle-!"

"I'm going to make you wish_ **you were never born **-**!**"_

Miles sighed. She almost always seemed to jinx herself. She cracked her knuckles, pulled out a can of Mace, shook it, and -

Suddenly, the long haired man was jerked off of the redhead by an invisible hand, and Miles' eyes widened as she smelled cordite, ozone, and juniper in the air, a residue of the magic that suffused the room. She turned around to glare at her sister, who was nonchalantly leaning against the doorjamb with one hand raised in a strange gesture. The long-haired man coughed from his landing on the floor, and he scrambled to stand up.

"What the -!" The redhead's one eye was wide as he whistled. Cris blinked several times, mouth open slightly. She snapped her mouth shut, and she clapped her hands, rubbing them together.

"Oookay, who wants hot chocolate? I could do with some right now. Hang on just a minute and I'll just get that..." With that, Cris bailed, and Miles was left with just her sister and the two shocked men. Miles worked her jaw irately, and she closed the door behind her sister. As she did, she muttered, "What did I say about -"

" 'No magic', I know," Cam said in a mocking voice, rolling her overly-made-up eyes in an exaggerated fashion. Suddenly, Cam's eyes flashed, catching a good view of the two men recovering from their sudden introduction to magic, and the younger girl stated, "They're not from here." Miles scoffed.

"Thanks, Sherlock, for the -"

"No, I'm serious. They're _not from here. _Like... not _here _here. I read a manga a while ago, and these guys look awfully similar. I don't think there's a convention in town, and if there was, I could pick these guys out in a heartbeat anyways. Their cosplay's too good, and they smell like... y'know, residual magic stuff, whatever you call it," Cam said, mumbling half her words with a sullen tone. Miles stared incomprehensibly, having to catch up with the fan-jargon. Suddenly, it hit Miles like a ton of bricks. The lack of personal information, their awe at normal, modern devices, the nagging feeling they were connected to _those people..._

Suddenly, as promised, Cris walked back in with hot chocolate, leaving them on a tray rather awkwardly as she finger waved with her crooked, scarred smile, and left the room. It fell quiet.

"Anyone wanna explain what just happened?" Lavi asked, attempting to get out of bed. Blood rushed to his head, and he fell to his knees. Despite having choked him nearly two minutes earlier, the long-haired fellow roughly hefted his redhead companion to his feet, allowing the one-eyed fellow to lean on his shoulder.

"For once I agree with the idiot," Kanda said, rubbing his face. It was raw from scrubbing off ink, and there were still vestiges of Lavi's 'art project' scrawled across his face. Cameron sat down with a huff in her seat.

"I'm too tired to explain. You do it," she complained, slumping. Under most circumstances, Miles would've made her sister give the two a rundown on their... predicament, but considering her sister had used enough magic to lift a one-hundred and fifty plus pound man off of a bed, she was willing to believe that Cameron was tired. Luckily, Cam was one of the strongest witches in a one hundred mile radius - most witches, especially those her age, would be on the floor gasping. Miles shuffled her feet as the two waited.

"Well-"

The door opened quietly with a click, and a white haired, sick-looking individual walked in. He looked awfully tired, and his gray eyes widened as he realized he'd interrupted something. The older man was right behind, his tall, question-mark ponytail the only thing visible behind the white-haired teenager. Cam's eyebrows rose with interest as recognition flashed behind bright eyes, and Miles' doubt disappeared. If her sister recognized them and they smelled like _residuum, _there was definitely something going on relating to... putting it simply, magical interference.

"I'm sorry. Do you need me to step out?" the white-haired kid said, and Miles shook her head, putting herself automatically at parade rest.

"No. Go ahead, come in. I'm just here to... explain some things to you," she said. The white-haired kid stood next to the long-haired man who was holding up Lavi, and he rose one, pale eyebrow at the strange sight of the bitter Asian man helping his cheerier counterpart. Lavi straightened self-consciously, and the old man placed himself at the door. Miles sighed through her nose, trying to figure out how to explain all this. Most of it was conjecture - she was flying by the seat of her pants. Miles wasn't quite sure of all the details, but at the least she could give them a brief overview. All four looked tired and in need of some well-deserved rest. At the worst, these four would think that she was crazy, but Miles trusted her sister's judgement. Cameron watched with intense fascination, wiping sweat from her brow.

"Um, all of you are now in the twenty-first century. The year is 2012, and the president is Barrack Obama, though I'm not sure how this is relevant to you. What was the year where you four came from?" she asked. The four looked at each other in thought, and the old man stated, "1865. America had just entered the Civil War under President Lincoln. We come from an alternate history of your world, I believe. When did it start here?" Miles racked her brains. She'd never stepped foot in a high school - all of her schooling had to be done at a GED course, and there'd been a ton to catch up on. Cam, however, was much more familiar with history.

"Ours started in 1861, not 1865," the young girl answered, and the old man nodded.

"How did we get here?" the white haired individual asked, and Miles winced.

"Well... we're not entirely sure. We know for certain that you come from a fictional series - I believe my sister knows it. Most people don't realize it, but some authors actually... _see _other dimensions, even if they don't mean to. It's difficult to discern which authors are making up a story and the authors who actually perceive a dimension subconsciously. Your dimension must've been a real one that was converted into a fictional series here. You were summoned, but for what purpose I'm not sure. We're still trying to figure that out. We're witches - or, rather, my sister is a witch. I'm an ex-_poteracruxus_ - a power broker. I have... hunches of who might have summoned you, however, and therefore I'm sure we can find a way to send you back," Miles stated matter-of-factly. So far, they seemed to be taking all of this in stride. It didn't appear to faze them to hear about magic or witches or dimensional travel.

"Is the person who could have summoned us dangerous to us or could mean harm in any way? Or would they leave us be?" the old man asked. Miles mouth tightened as her stance stiffened. She looked down at the ground, memories cascading. She finally said, "Yes, I believe so. The basis of magic is energy and the ability to change things. Animals are used in lots of magic rites as a source of energy, usually tied a life process of some sort. Human beings are even more potent, though we're not sure why. She'll want you back in order to conserve energy, and if she's made a contract with some sort of circle, that means she has to find you and send you off before using a different circle, otherwise she voids her contract and dies. Summonings are tricky business."

"She?" the long-haired man asked.

"Yes. She," Miles said with a cockeyed smile. "Most magic users, _poteracrux__ii _and _energonitristos _and all others besides, are women. We're a little more... sensitive, I guess, to magic than men, though there are male magi out there. Still, no matter who's after you, we'll need to keep you somewhere safe. I'd rather not let you four fall into trouble again. Seeing as you've got nowhere to stay, I guess you can sleep at my place until a more suitable accommodation can be found." Cam's eyes widened with surprise and rage.

"What? Gale!" Cam whined, but Miles glared at Cam with such intensity, even the young witch couldn't argue further. She looked hard and impenetrable at that moment, something Cam rarely saw in her anxious, though ever-ready, sister. The room fell silent with a still, pregnant pause.

"I'll check you out when you're ready to leave, and we'll head to my place. It's small, and we're going to have to get cozy -"

"I wouldn't mind that," Lavi muttered, and Kanda stepped on his foot, causing the redhead to stifle a yelp.

"-and suck it up until I can find someone else who's willing to put up a bed for you guys. I've already got a friend in mind who can also help with the science end of your... dimension problem," Miles finished, giving a pointed look at the mischievous redhead. Nevertheless, she gave a small smile.

"I apologize for the inconvenience." The understatement of the year. She pulled something out of her pocket and fidgeted with it before looking up.

"I'll ask the doctors when you guys will be ready to leave." With that, Miles left, and Cam, not one to be idle, waited for her sister to close the door before pulling a deck of cards out of her pocket and offering, "Who wants to play poker?"

* * *

><p>Allen hid a smirk as he laid down yet another hand.<p>

"Royal flush."

A collective uproar filled the room, and Allen broadly held out his hands for the winnings. Cam turned over a shoe, Lavi gave up his shirt, and Kanda grudgingly handed Allen one of his hair ties. So far, Allen had collected several socks, an earring, a strange, blocky device that had the name NOKIA imprinted across the face and the back, two or three of Kanda's prized hair ties, two shoes, a shirt, and one of Lavi's fountain pens. A black aura seemed to cloud the cheery-faced Exorcist, and he was feeling much better now that he had a chance to stomp the three.

The door opened behind them, and Allen almost laughed at the wide-eyed look on Officer Miles' face. Cam waved insolently at her sister as the woman rolled her eyes.

"Put your clothes on. We're going home," Miles ordered. Bookman entered behind her, holding a sheaf of papers in a folder. He gave a pointed look at Lavi and his topless attire, the bandage around his waist a promising pink color, rather than dark red. The hyperactive redhead was already collecting his things back from Allen as the younger boy gave back his hard-won items to his victims. They prepared for their departure, and Allen mulled over the events of the day in his head as they walked through the white, extremely modern halls of the hospital.

This place, despite being fantastical and surreal, worried Allen. The things he'd seen on the box on the wall (Cam had said it was a 'television' when he'd asked) had been... lewd in some parts, humorous in a wrong sort of way, and laughably ridiculous and over the top. Entertainment had changed quite a bit. Everything had changed, for that matter, and Allen wondered what he was going to encounter as he stepped out into dusky twilight. The asphalt under his feet was strangely smooth, and he realized it was a much more refined sort of concrete. The cars were also very, very different - he'd realized that the things he'd seen in the street where Lavi had been shot were actually automobiles, much like the early tin lizzies he'd seen in America. These were sleeker, however, and much more streamlined with full protection around the cab, smoothly curved glass for a windshield and windows, and thick tires made of some sort of tough rubber.

At first perplexed about how to get inside, Allen watched as Cam pulled a handle on what he thought must be a door and climbed in. Deciding it was best to follow her example, Allen did the same just as Kanda, Lavi, and Bookman circled the car to get in on the other side. It was a little bit cramped - there was only so much room in the backseat. In fact, Lavi playfully sat in Kanda's lap, justifying it by saying there wasn't enough room for Bookman and his large back end, before he was hit by both parties and shoved into his seat with Bookman seated firmly on top of him.

"Hey! I'm an invalid! Shouldn't I be treated with a bit of tenderness?" Lavi protested, and Allen laughed.

"Maybe if you were just as gentle with the other two, they'd be a bit kinder towards you, Lavi," Allen mentioned, and Lavi pouted.

"Allen! You're supposed to be on _my _side!"

"Calm down, or I'm turning this car around and dropping you off at the hospital," Miles drawled hollowly. Nevertheless, the two quieted down, and Allen's thoughts took a turn inwards.

He glanced between Miles and Cam, the former keeping her eyes on the road while whipping out a device that Allen guessed acted like an immobile golem as she dialed something on the face while the latter pulled out a rectangular invention that had a two screens with characters flying across it. Allen leaned forward slightly in the small town car, trying to get a better look, but suddenly they stopped, and Allen was thrown backwards into his seat.

"For the love of - WATCH WHERE YOU'RE GOING, you little hormone-addled, half-dead idiot..." Miles muttered as a car cut in front of them from a side street. Despite the constant stop and start of traffic, Allen got a glimpse of the world outside the window, and his eyes widened with awe. The buildings were _so tall..._ It looked like they could touch the clouds above them in just a moment, and they were built with these magnificently bright panes of glass. Some of the buildings were nearly ten stories high, and others were made of brick and stone with old, weatherworn masonry over the entrances stating the year they were built. Lavi and Kanda were likewise entranced, though Lavi was much more vocal about his amazement than Kanda, to no one's surprise.

"Holy crap! These things are massive!"

"Idiot, get out of my lap!"

"Come on, I need a better view - OW! Easy, you elbowed my side!"

"Maybe if you didn't practically lay down on my legs, I wouldn't have to elbow you."

"Aw, come on, you know you like it.~"

Bookman suddenly leaned back on top of Lavi, and the redhead protested loudly. Allen watched in embarrassment as Cam slunk lower and lower into her seat. Suddenly, Allen noticed something rather odd. Despite going through a heavily populated street... his eye hadn't activated once. Most places this thick with people set it off at least once. Akuma were a lot more common than most realized, so this was awfully abnormal.

"Bookman, do you think that Akuma -" Allen started, and Bookman frowned as Allen trailed off. To Allen's amazement, Cam answered, "Nope. We have all types of creepers, but Akuma ain't one of 'em. Geez, the problems we'd have if we had Akuma. Miles would be busier with them than police work, though of _course _she's given up -"

"We're almost home," Miles cut in suddenly, slicing Cam's sentence off at the end as well as the blade sitting in her trunk. Allen turned back to his window, staring at the buildings as they passed by. Slowly, the buildings became shorter and shorter as they left the inner city. They went up on a massive ramp of road, flying above the main streets, and even Kanda stared, awestruck. It was fully dark now with looming clouds, and the city was lit like a massive gallery of lights, rising over the earth and throwing its luminescence to the clouds. Above, the downy clouds glowed orange and white from the lights, and the cityscape glinted off the windows as Miles drove down to the earthbound streets once more.

Finally, they stopped at a large building that Allen recognized as an apartment. Those, at least, didn't change. The car eased to a stop in the parking lot, and they all piled out. Lavi, over dramatic as always, fell to the ground and started to hug the asphalt.

"LAND!" he shouted gleefully, and everyone rolled their eyes almost simultaneously. Ignoring the prostrate redhead they walked towards the doors and entered. They came into a small lobby area with a small desk, and Miles walked up to it. Allen glanced behind him as Lavi finally caught up, still spry despite his wound. The indomitably cheerful man practically stood on top of Allen in his excitement to see what was behind the desk, and Allen had to politely tell Lavi to _back up._

"Come on, Allen, you're no fun," Lavi muttered, but he obliged before being distracted by some other new gadget.

Meanwhile, Miles talked with a lady behind the desk, whom Allen presumed must be the landlady. She had a strange, thin screen on a stand at her desk with what looked like a very, very small version of a typewriter directly underneath and in front. The lady herself looked like old laundry that had been left out to dry for too long in a basket - dry, stiff, and wrinkled. She adjusted her half-moon glasses, her puckered lips moving rather irritably, and she drawled out in a smoker's scratch, "Yeeees, Missus Miles? Your rent is _late... again._" Miles didn't pay any attention to the sour tone of the landlady's statement.

"Hello, Gertrude, nice to see you too. I have a couple of new guys living with me. That won't affect my rent rate, will it?" Miles asked. She didn't even bother to ask if it was okay for the four men to stay with her. Allen was slightly amazed with just how forthcoming the officer-in-training was. Landladies were probably calmer now than they had been back in the 1800s... because Allen remembered all too well having to wash dishes, run errands, and do all sorts of tasks for landladies he'd made angry (or rather, his _master _had made angry).

"Hmmmm, nnoooo, it won't. Buuuut... your utilities will _still _be going up from regular _use. _Be sure these boys behave," Gertrude said, staring at the four with a look that could spoil milk, rot eggs, and mold bread. Allen practically wilted under her stare, Lavi swallowed, and Kanda's only reaction was to give a 'hmph' and look away. Bookman assured, "We will be on our best behavior. Am I right, boys?" The three mumbled their agreement.

Gertrude seemed appeased by this, and for the first time took a look at Bookman. Her penciled eyebrows flew up towards her hair line, and she leaned forwards with a small smile on her face that pulled back to reveal long, gray teeth.

"I didn't think you picked up older men, Mmmmiiiiles," the lady drawled, and Bookman's face colored. Allen almost laughed. It was the most ruffled he'd ever seen the man get, and the old man self-consciously shifted as he was looked from head to toe rather... hungrily. Cam gagged audibly, and she began to drag her sister towards the stairs, all four visitors following rather hastily as the woman at the desk tapped something out on her miniature type-writer-that-wasn't-a-type-writer.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **I am very happy to see that this little fic now has it's own following of sorts! I hadn't expected such a quick response, in all honesty. I'm glad to see it.

Thanks for the reviews, guys. I'm glad to know that it's not too AU or crossoverish, and I believe I caused a bit of confusion. The world this story is set in is not a known fictional world - I kinda just pulled it out of a hat all on my own. Anyhow, big thanks to UsuixMisakiLover, PrevalentMasters (Good to see you again!), Uniasus, and IncredibleIdiosyncrasies. I'll take the advice on the mains, seeing as I'm not sure if I could juggle more than the four I have now. Perhaps later I'll start to add in more.

I was surprised to find that this actually got quite a few subscribers as well, though I _wasn't _surprised to find that some of my reviewers also ended up subscribers. I'm glad you like this story so much to add it to an alert list. So far I have six: UsuixMisakiLover, karina001 (why, hello again! You like this one too?), IncredibleIdiosyncrasies, Uniasus, Suki Miko, and toadstoolteaparty. My, what interesting readers I have...

Last, but not least, I have my favoriteers. I love my favoriteers, don't I? So far I have three, but three is always a good number. Welcome to the party, UsuixMisakiLover, allenfan, and Suki Miko, and hopefully all of you enjoy yourselves.

As always, I have discussion questions just to get you guys started if you want to review. Keep in mind that you don't have to use a discussion question to start off a review - it's just food for thought. However, if you want to answer all questions that's more than welcome as well. _Are the characters fairly in character given the circumstances? Is the story too lighthearted for its material and subject? Is the prose easy to understand? Are there any plotholes that you can think of? Have I left any loose ends? Do you think that the humor is original or funny? Do you like the characters, original and otherwise? Would you like a 'Fourth Wall Mail Slot' to submit questions to ask the characters at the end of each chapter? Do you want to ask _me _questions about anything__? Do you think that this story should include a romance, more action, more mystery, etc.? Do you enjoy the 'atmosphere' of the story? Is the chapter too long?_

That's it for now. I have another chapter, coming right up hot and ready, and more shenanigans on their way.

God bless, and happy reading!


	3. Ergomancer

Kanda was less than impressed with his new surroundings. Miles had led them up to her apartment, flung open the door, and said 'home sweet home', though this was anything but. It was lovingly disorganized with an eclectic jumble of furniture, a kitchenette, and two bedrooms with a single, postage-stamp-sized bathroom. Mornings were going to be a riot. There was cat hair everywhere along with a litter box next to the kitchen. The cat himself was a lazy calico sleeping on top of a curtain with one paw dangling. Soon after the door was opened, the cat woke up and cracked open a single green eye before shutting it again and resuming his nap.

All four had taken a shower and borrowed clothes from Cam, who luckily wore baggy pajamas, before camping out in the main living area, or what there was of it. Miles had pulled out the bed from the sofa (an innovation that amused Allen to no end, the dope), and they'd dressed it up with sheets and blankets and the like. Kanda, however, was not willing to toss and turn with the Three Stooges, and so he'd found himself a spot on the floor underneath a window where he dumped his sword and his uniform. Besides, most people didn't know what Kanda did at night in his sleep, and he preferred that he not broadcast that fact to his teammates. It wasn't that he was embarrassed or anything, but it was... less than glamorous.

Kanda talked in his sleep. A _lot._

He had no idea what he said in his sleep. All he knew was that he could be quite the chatterbox, and most of what came out of his mouth didn't make sense. It was a wonder that Marie could sleep whenever they were on missions together. The first time that Kanda had found out that he talked in his sleep had been nearly five years ago when he'd gone out on his first mission without Marie. He'd begrudgingly gone with Froi Tiedoll, that vague, inattentive, loving man, and Froi had woken him up for fear that the Japanese Exorcist was having some sort of nightmare. Marie, with his superior hearing, had been able to make sense of Kanda's muttering and therefore left him to his night rambles, but Froi had informed Kanda rather abruptly about his nocturnal conversations with himself.

And now, he was having a slumber party with two of the most annoying people on the planet and an old man who looked like he might die in the middle of the night. Kanda's expression turned flat as Allen basically fell in love with the pillows and Lavi fiddled with some other new device that had caught his attention. Bookman, being the old man that he is, had already fallen asleep on the bed and was now snoring faintly. Kanda himself wanted to wait for the two idiots to fall asleep (Allen slept like the dead once he was out, and Lavi was a freaking tornado when he slept, tossing and turning and basically kicking everybody), but at this rate it didn't seem that either of them would be falling asleep any time soon.

"These pillows are _amazing..._" Allen sighed, burying his face into a memory-foam pillow Miles had dug out from the closet. Lavi ambled around in the kitchen, finding all sorts of doodads.

"Wow... look at this!" Lavi held up a strange, glass container with a white, floppy lid and a white base with buttons. The inside held blades, and a long cord fell out the back with a knobby end that had two pieces of metal sticking out.

"Go. To. Sleep," Kanda practically growled, sticking his head under a pillow. Luckily Allen was already on his way to slumberland, but Lavi was _never _going to shut up. Quite swiftly, Allen was out like a light on his blissfully soft pillow, but Lavi was still knocking around in the kitchen. After thirty minutes of reciting the same two lines of Chinese poetry in his head in order to attempt to block out the idiot rabbit's meandering Kanda gave up completely. The Japanese Exorcist sat up with his hair in disarray, gripping his sword in a rather menacing manner as he glared at Lavi -

who was crying.

Kanda's eyes widened in surprise to see the redhead leaning over the sink with his shoulders shaking. Bookman and Allen were asleep, and Lavi must've thought Kanda had also finally drifted off as well. The apprentice Bookman had taken off his headband and balled it up in one hand, and Kanda could see blood beginning to soak out of the bandage on his side into his borrowed cotton shirt. At first glance it appeared that Lavi was in pain, but the samurai knew better than that. Lavi could probably lose an arm and not bat an eyelash. His problems seemed a bit more... internal. Uncertainty gripped Kanda as he realized that he didn't know what to do. Lavi wasn't really a _friend..._at least, not that he thought about him like that. Yeah, he was annoying, but if there was anyone Kanda trusted besides his own team, it was the redhead with the hammer.

Lavi walked slowly with his bandanna to the small, round table made of fake wood in the middle of the kitchen. He placed the bandanna down and set his hammer next to it. He was red-eyed, and he'd bitten into his lip to try and quiet down his sobbing. What was the matter with him? Kanda had never seen him like this. He was the idiot with the smile on his face, the stupid Exorcist who was always cracking jokes, pulling pranks, hiding... hiding everything that hurt to make everyone feel better. Kanda hated that about Lavi, the first time he'd met him. He could see right through the facade of frivolity to the curled up, numbed, dead little thing he'd been behind that green eye made of glass. Now, it was the opposite. His facade was the same, but the reasons why he kept it up were different. Lavi was very, very, very good at hiding how he truly felt about things, and that had always put Kanda on edge. He always seemed to tailor his reactions specifically to the people he was around. It was a wonder he could keep track.

Now he was sitting down in a chair at the table, rubbing both eyes with long spindly hands. Kanda finally sighed to himself, deciding he might as well help him before he tried to kill himself or something stupid like that. Heaven knows, if Kanda was going to suffer here, so was the idiot rabbit. No copping out for either of them. Lavi looked up in abject surprise when Kanda seated himself at the table nonchalantly, and Lavi discreetly looked away to wipe his nose. Kanda laid down his sword on the table, leaning back in his chair, and the two shared about five minutes' worth of companionable silence.

"You think I'm an imbecile, don't you? Crying for no reason," Lavi said in a whisper, his head angled down to stare at the table. His hair fell over his eyes, creating a curtain. Kanda made no comment, just sat there. It was what he was good at. No one really realized it, but Kanda happened to be a good listener. He didn't judge, he didn't interrupt, and he didn't give away what he thought on the matter. He just sat there and listened.

"Everything's so different here. It may not worry you... and it may not worry Allen... but..." Lavi finally looked up at Bookman, asleep on the bed-sofa in the living room. Lavi's lip quivered, and he shook his head.

"There's so much that... that I don't _know _about this place. There's so much to learn. I don't think you or-or Allen could understand just how... how frightening that is to us," Lavi said, his voice cracking. His skin was pale, and Kanda realized that Lavi's agitation might've opened his wound again. He was going to start bleeding out. Kanda contemplated waking up Officer-Whatsherface so they could take the idiot back to the hospital, but he decided that sitting here and listening would do more good than just a blood transfusion and a good talking-to on wound care.

"An entire history of almost two hundred years... and I don't even know if they have Bookmen here," Lavi chuckled darkly. "Maybe everything that I've worked for is for nothing now. Maybe... maybe it doesn't matter because for all we know we _can't _go back." Lavi's face contorted to one of surprise as he was knocked over the head with Mugen's sheath. Kanda's eye twitched as he frowned, and Lavi rubbed his sore noggin with a look of perplexity.

"Idiot. You think you're the only one afraid of losing their purpose?" Kanda muttered, his voice so low it was almost a growl. Kanda looked off sullenly. A thought had been nagging at the back of his mind since they'd arrived to this odd place in the future of a world where they had never existed. Kanda had never considered what life might be like _after _the war was over. Now that he was in a civilian setting, he wasn't quite sure how he was going to fit in with everything else. He didn't know the people, the language, the technology, or... _anything. _He was starting from scratch. His entire purpose for living, that being 'destroy Akuma', had been plucked from him as surely as Lavi's prospective Bookman title had been stolen.

The two sat in silence as Lavi slowly realized what Kanda was alluding to, and the redhead sighed. He sniffled, wiping his nose on his arm. Wearily, he laid his head on the table, staring at his hammer, which he probably no longer needed, and the bandanna. Kanda knew that Johnny and a few of the other Science Department geeks had created the uniform especially to Lavi's specifications, including the headband. Once Lavi'd dropped it down a ravine on one of his missions with Kanda, and the samurai had been surprised to find later that Lavi had gone down the entire canyon to retrieve it.

"You really think we'll never see them again?" Kanda asked quietly, staring at the tall, boxed ice-chest that hummed next to the wall. Kanda had an idea of what was on Lavi's mind by the way the young apprentice was staring at his bandanna with a forlorn expression. Lavi sat up straight, and he crossed his arms. His face had become a mask again, and Kanda immediately felt loathing. Lavi could be a cold individual when he wanted to be, and sometimes he did it without even thinking about it. The young man shook his head.

"No. Gramps has only told me once about the War of the Witches. From what I know, it takes a lot of oomph to send a person through a dimension, much less back... You're gonna miss them, too, huh?" Lavi asked. Neither stated the word 'friends' outright, but the meaning was understood. People like Lavi and Kanda didn't have _friends. _They had _assets. _In that way, they could relate. Kanda's dark eyes cut across to meet Lavi's single green eye, and the two of them seemed to instantaneously understand.

"No more Lenalee bringing coffee. No more Johnny bugging me to play chess. No more... no more Komui with his robots and his stupid machines. No more Hevlaska and that freaking creepy Innocence of hers," Lavi muttered quietly to himself, laughing a little at his last two comments.

"No more being bugged by Finders. No more... no more fighting," Kanda commented rather glumly. He'd never thought about it, but he _loved _the thrill of the fight. There was nothing like pitting yourself, all of yourself, against a machine of death and coming out on top, even if you had to practically kill yourself to get there.

"No more fighting," Lavi whispered. There was a moment of silence, and Lavi tried to stand, but for the second time that day, he fell to his knees. Kanda immediately stood up, creating a screeching noise as the chair screamed against the plastic-sheathed floor. Lavi put up a hand as he gasped, and he said, "No, don't worry about it. Just... got dizzy, there, for a minute. I've had a little too much excitement for one day." The redhead managed to find his feet, and he stood up slowly. The shirt he was wearing was now gaining a pinkish-red color, and Kanda felt a twinge. It was an odd twinge too, the type of twinge he got around Marie and Tiedoll and... and Lenalee and... This was beginning to get weird. Maybe being dropped in a different dimension had scrambled his brain.

Lavi began to hobble back to bed, and Kanda suddenly said, "Hey." Lavi, surprised, looked back to the samurai standing rather self-consciously in the kitchen. The swordsman blinked several times, realizing he'd actually _initiated _a conversation, and he said, "Change your bandage. You're going to get the bed bloody." Lavi stood there, dazed for a minute, before sadly smiling. He saluted Kanda, and he began to head off to the bathroom. Kanda, realizing he finally had his peace and quiet, went back to his spot on the floor. Sleeplessly, he listened to Allen's breathing, Bookman's snoring, and Lavi's nearly inaudible puttering in the bathroom before finally allowing himself to drift off.

* * *

><p>Lavi cracked open a single green eye as his internal clock basically screamed "GET UP YOU LAZY BUM AND GET YOURSELF BREAKFAST". The Bookman Apprentice (or was that ex-Apprentice? That idea still nagged at him) slowly got out of bed, feeling his body creak in all the wrong places. With a stiff walk, he turned the lights on with a simple flick of a switch. With even that small action he winced as his wound twinged, and he realized he'd need more pain medication. However, he wasn't sure exactly how to <em>take <em>said medication, though he realized it was oral, thank the Lord. Lavi had only ever had to use a suppository once in his life, and he was very hesitant to ever have to do so again. The redheaded man shambled over to the table, finding the little baggie that held his prescription, and he took out the bright orange bottle with a look of confusion. He could very clearly read the directions, which were somehow written in an incredibly neat script as if someone had done it up on a typewriter, and he tried to get the cap off, but it stubbornly refused to open. After three different tries, including using his teeth, he gave up. Even Lavi was no match for childproofing.

He slumped in a chair, checking his bandage. His shirt, which had once been white and now was a disgusting pinkish red, had dried out so it was a little stiff, and his bandage was mostly clean. A bit of pink showed through where Lavi had wrapped another bandage around the wound. He remembered enough first aid to know that taking _off _a bandage was a bad idea if it was just healing. The scab was still stuck to the bandage, and if you peel the bandage you peel the scab. His side was sore, though, and he was a little dizzy. The room randomly tilted now and again. To distract himself, he continued to catalog the items he did recognize and the items he didn't.

The carpet was new. He'd never realized that carpet could be anything other than a rug, and this was an awfully strange sort of invention. Still, he couldn't say that it wasn't easy on the feet. The plastic floor in the kitchen was new, too, and it was yellowed with what Lavi concluded as age and water damage. The appliances in the kitchen were mostly a mystery, though he'd guessed at the function of the glass pot in its stand and the sink with its running water. The icebox was rather interesting, seeing as it really had no actual ice in it, and it was a wonder it stayed cold. The television (he remembered overhearing Cam tell Allen about that) was a blank, black screen much like the ones he'd seen in the Order, and he guessed that this was a case of 'convergent invention' more than anything else.

Lavi got up again, and he leaned against the counter. It was a long bar that separated the kitchen from the living room and was an obvious addition rather than having been constructed with the rest of the apartment. Lavi peered over at his companions, all of them asleep. Bookman's face was serene as he snored, and Allen looked so much younger. Lavi chuckled as he realized that Allen was snuggled up to Bookman, the older fellow instinctively flinging an arm around the younger boy. Lavi remembered that he'd slept like that with Bookman when he was young and just starting out as an apprentice. He hadn't been used to the sounds of war, and the roar of mortars hitting pavement had driven him into Bookman's arms at some points. Kanda, asleep beneath the window, was mumbling. His night rambles weren't as secret as he thought. Lavi had listened more than once when he couldn't sleep on missions with the dour-faced Exorcist, and he was glad to know that it was mostly nonsense and nothing to do with... with _that _incident.

Secretly, Lavi was also glad for Kanda's intervention last night. His calm facial expression fell to one of blankness as he thought about what would have ensued. Lavi would've chewed those thoughts over and over and over until he couldn't bear it any more. Eventually, it would've come out somehow, some day, and it wouldn't have been pretty in any case. That sort of frustration was hard to bottle up for more than a few days at a time. Though Bookman didn't seem duly affected by the same though, Lavi figured he needed to make sure just to be on the safe side. He made a note to talk about it with the old man today.

Miles' bedroom door opened, and Lavi tensed instinctively. His entire form relaxed, though, as Miles' calico, which he learned was named Skitters, moseyed over to the kitchen. The cat sat in front of his empty bowl and glared at it as if it was the bowl's fault it was empty. Lavi laughed as the cat suddenly trotted over to Lavi, meowing. At least cats didn't change. Realizing he didn't know where the cat food was (and he didn't feel it was very polite to riffle through the cabinets on his own), he wandered over to Miles' room, nudging the door open with his foot.

He stared in confusion. Miles was laying face down on her bed wearing a skimpy top with a pair of light, cotton pants. Emblazoned on her back was a large tattoo. It covered a good portion of her mid and upper back, and he was sad to say it was rather anticlimactic. It was a raven with both wings spread across her shoulders, a candle at its feet. There were words written on the candle in some sort of Old English typography that was too difficult for Lavi to read. Sighing in her sleep, she flipped over, revealing yet another tattoo that had previously gone unnoticed, this one a little bit... stranger. It was almost the size of a dubloon, not much bigger, showcasing four razors in an 'x' formation with a snake eating it's tail overlaid on top of it. Lavi narrowed his single eye, wondering what exactly all of this meant about the woman who'd invited them to stay in her home and claimed to be an ex-witch, if an ex-witch even existed.

Miles stirred, and her eyes flew open, staring at Lavi dumbfounded. Suddenly she cursed and scrambled for the pistol on her nightstand, immediately pointing it at Lavi with a surprised shout, and the redhead swiftly closed the door and shouted, "Don't shoot! Don't... don't shoot! Sorry, I, uh, I was going to ask where the cat food was." Lavi waited, standing away from the door. Finally, he heard the _snick _of a magazine coming free of a gun and the sound of padding feet towards the door. Miles stepped out, and she sighed, "Sheesh, for the love of Pete, don't scare me like that. Knock or something, okay?" Miles looked awkwardly sheepish as she headed towards the kitchen, and Lavi followed behind. The raven on her back glared at him as she searched through her cabinets for the cat food.

"You holding up alright?" she asked, and Lavi blinked, still distracted by the wording on the tattoo.

"I beg your pardon?" Lavi asked, rubbing his face. Miles took down a single can of cat food, and Skitters wound around her feet in excitement, meowing with anticipation. Miles picked up the cat and handed him to Lavi, the chronicler taking the cat rather hastily. He began to rub the cat between the ears, and the calico purred like an engine.

"I asked if you were doing okay. Not in pain, are you?" Miles asked, dumping the cat food into Skitters' dish. The cat leaped out of Lavi's arms towards the food, and Lavi realized that Miles was staring at the large spot on his shirt. He guiltily rubbed the back of his head and stated, "Yeah, I'm, uh, I'm fine. I had a bit of... of a problem last night." Miles nodded as she started to dig stuff out of the big icebox, and Lavi sat down quietly at the table.

"Um... Can I ask you a question?" Lavi said suddenly, unable to stand the silence. His mind was running around in too many circles for him just to sit there. Light was beginning to fill the room as the sun rose. The city was already up and about, the noise filtering through the walls as people took showers, cooked, and talked throughout the apartment complex.

"You already did," Miles said with a sardonic smirk, and Lavi winced playfully. He sighed, leaning back with his arms crossed behind his head, and he asked, "What's with the ink? You're not the type of girl I'd expect to get tattoos." Okay, this was a bit of a lie, but it was odd seeing a woman with tattoos besides. Lavi had only ever seen one woman with ink, and at first glance he'd thought that she was a man. Lavi watched Miles' reaction carefully, knowing he was treading what was probably shaky ground. The woman slowed down pensively, thinking. She pulled out a strange looking container of eggs, a jug of milk, and two shakers of salt and pepper. She prepped her stove with strange dials situated above the stove eyes, and she finally said, "They're from my coven days. Covens are pretty closely tied with the gangs. If you look close enough at the wings, you can see a Sacred Heart one some of the feathers. It has a special blue streak through the middle, and it belongs to the _Immaculada _gang. It shows what gang my coven's allied to, though it changes and so the tattoo usually changes as well. Magic makes it easy to get alterations done, though."

"What was your coven?" Lavi asked. Behind him, he could hear Bookman stirring. The old man was always an early riser.

"Ravenlight. Yeah, yeah, really dark and angsty, I know - we were kids when we started it, being on the wrong side of the tracks and all that cliche stuff. We thought it was a cool name, and we stuck with it. We had a coven mother who'd started a coven similar to ours called Raven Kings before it ended up busted because of a drug raid," Miles said, her voice oddly detached as if all of the things she'd said had happened to someone else. She poured the milk with the naked egg whites and yolk and stirred while adding salt and pepper.

"You don't get them removed? I thought you said you were an ex-witch," Lavi asked.

She hesitantly said, "I keep them as reminders. Y'know, that I'm not spotless and I screw up. It keeps me focused." Feeling inquisitive, drumming the table with his long fingers, he asked, "And what about the one on your chest? With the razors?" Miles looked back, her eyebrow raised as if to say 'haven't you asked enough questions?' Still, she humored him.

"All coven members pick a specialty after they finish Basic, and the tattoo marks your specialty. Everyone gets the oroborus - it means you finished Basic. The razors mean I'm a _poteracruxus - _literally, 'power cross.' I was a power broker. I could influence certain things to happen, and I could store energy in different objects for later use. I used to be able to commune, too, but that took a lot of effort and scared the living crap out of me. It's one of the more dangerous fields of magic, but it's nowhere near the level of an _energeinotor - _energy user. They take the raw stuff and use it to do work, whatever work is needed, without a go-between. That's what Cam is, and she's one of the most skilled at it. It takes real intuition and guts." Miles put the eggs in the pan, and they sizzled. Lavi felt his curiosity get the better of him. He wanted to ask more questions, but the others were beginning to wake. It was easier for a person to talk about stuff like this one-on-one rather than with a group present.

"Well, what's on our agenda today? I'll stop pestering you about your checkered past," Lavi said, jokingly referring past coven. Miles turned around and leaned against the counter with an eye roll.

"It's Saturday, luckily, so we can get Allen enrolled in the local school. I don't want people knocking at my door because he's truant. He'll probably be in the same grade as Cameron, so he at least won't be facing high school by himself. We'll need to find jobs for the both of you, so I'll be picking up ads at the store so I can see if there's any place that'll hire you. We'll need to go shopping for supplies, too. I don't have enough clothes, shampoo, food, and toothpaste for all of you," Miles sighed, pushing back her hair from her face. Allen sat up very suddenly, and he asked, "Is that food?" He clambered out of bed, nearly tripping over Skitters as he did, and Lavi laughed as he practically salivated at the counter.

"I apologize, Miss, but... uh, could I have some eggs? I'll make my own," Allen offered, and Miles shook her head.

"I've got it, thanks. Get dressed and ready. We've got a busy day today."

* * *

><p>"What do you mean, you<em> don't have <em>the demon?" A young man with short, buzzed hair and several tattoos raged at Iris. The witch recoiled slightly as he menacingly took a step forwards. She gripped the crystal in her pocket, reassured by its pulsing warmth. She pushed back with her own snarl.

"Exactly what I said. I. Don't. Have. It," she spat out, her hair pulled back into a high ponytail to show off the tattoo along her hairline. Darius' glance flickered between the snake with the intricate circle inside its confines back to the woman's face. The _teletransitrist _glared back defiantly, ready to use any of her power should the volatile young gang leader decide to whip out a gun or a knife. He'd done so before, and hopefully he'd learned his lesson the first time around. Several of his cronies slumped against the walls of his dingy apartment, some of them watching the TV that was providing the white noise in the room. Several witches were also present, all of them wearing street clothes, some of them displaying their _insigne _through cut shirts or low cut tops. Most of them were just as tense as the gang members in the small apartment. It didn't help that most of the witches in the room were only fourteen or fifteen years of age while the gang members were considerably older. It was obvious that the witches were not on their turf.

"Tristos says the Nitestalkers are comin' in the next three months. THREE MONTHS, IRIS! WE GOT THREE MONTHS, AND WE DON'T HAVE THEIR MONEY!" Darius' shouts were so inflamed, he was flinging spittle. Iris continued to stand her ground, head thrown back as she glared at him down her nose.

"You know that the Nitestalkers got the Tri's on their back, and you know the Tri's love to _play _first before they off somebody," Darius growled, prowling back and forth like a caged tiger. His gang was an upstart. Nearly ten years ago, his father had started it before getting a gunshot to the head, and Darius had continued it on, racking up a good amount of members.

However, some of them'd accidentally walked in on a deal made by Nitestalker members and another gang, and the idiots actually tried to steal the stash. Nearly five hundred and fifty thousand bucks worth of coke and Mary-Jane had ended up being dumped because the fuzz had nailed the three carrying it off in their truck. The Wrench Dogs had been 'billed' by the Nitestalkers after the incident with a dead Dog member on Darius' doorstep with the money amount carved in his chest. Nitestalkers were known for their brutality towards offending gangs, especially abrupt crop-ups like the Dogs. Iris knew they were affiliated with one of the most notorious witch covens below the Mason-Dixon Line, the Tri Clave, a group so strong that most witch covens who stepped on their toes tended to disband in order to fly beneath their radar.

Needless to say, those covens never got back together because none of their members were... present to do so. The only hope the Ravenlight coven had of keeping alive and intact was a weapon bigger than the Tri Clave's members combined. Their hope, of course, had just flown out the window with their botched summoning.

"What do you think's gonna happen to us if we don't pay up? You think they gonna just slap our hands 'n say 'no, no, bad boy'? Are you an IDIOT?" Darius screamed, his voice cracking. The members of both groups seemed to bristle. It was too early in the morning for this.

"We can get it back," Iris ground out, balling her fists. She sighed before opening both hands and holding them. An image appeared between them, the crystal in her pocket burning hot as the energy leaked through it. She cursed her current _poteracruxus. _She was piece of crap. Gale at least made sure the crystals were bound tight before shoving energy into it. Hers didn't just leak.

The image between her hands showed the faces of seven different people. They were more possibilities than sure suspects seeing as anyone from that universe could've been plucked off their world, but the main focus of unwitting _visitransitrists _usually put magical emphasis on them and them only when it came to summons. One was white-haired with a scar through his eye. The second was a long-haired man with a sour expression. The third was a man with red hair and an eyepatch. The fourth was an old man with kohl-lined eyes and a question-mark ponytail. The fifth was a girl with girlish pigtails on either side of her head. The sixth was a man with a white stripe in his hair and no eyebrows, and the seventh was a man with curling hair and a beret.

"These are the seven that are probably out there. The contract currently numbers four, though, so I'm guessing four out of these seven are wandering around. I'd prefer them alive as that'd save a lot of time, but if they're dead I don't really care either. My own witches will go with your guys to make sure the job's done properly. Once they're dead, the circle's free to use again, and I won't have to break contract," Iris stated, darkly lined eyes drilling holes into Darius' face. The gang leader stuck out his bottom lip petulantly, considering this. A tattoo peeked from inside of his lip as he placed with a ring through it. He finally shrugged.

"Can't you get hard-copies of pictures? Can't exactly carry around magic voodoo stuff with me and make it work," Darius quipped, and the gang members grinned and chuckled darkly. Iris smiled with a sickly sweet taint, and she handed over four scanned pictures. They were merely line drawings - that, Darius hadn't expected. Even the drawings that Iris had put up with her hands were mere pencil sketches, anime-d sketches no less. How was he supposed to work with this?

"I'm pretty sure I can give you guys a place to start off from. A 'friend' of mine probably already has them tracked down. That should make it easy. I'll call in an expert when things get really rough," Iris stated, and Darius sniffed.

"When's 'really rough' start?" he asked with a belligerent mumble as he flipped through the pictures. The floating images in front of her fizzled out as her crystal died. Iris' eye twitched. In her pocket, the crystal crumbled.

"When I say it does."

* * *

><p>"All right, here's fifty bucks each. If it's over twenty dollars, you're being swindled. If it's under five, you're still being swindled. Capiche? All right, get out of here," Miles stated, shooing the three Exorcists and single sister off. Bookman watched with amusement as the boys looked around in confusion and interest at the building Miles had called a 'mall', which Bookman decided to equate to an indoor market with fans and much better aesthetics.<p>

The old man had been quite pleased to know that most of the things in this universe he already understood. He himself had never been here, but he'd read accounts from people during the War of the Witches about places _like _this. Unlike Lavi's previous fear, Bookman was not at all scared that he might not understand all there was about this world. He was, after all, a Bookman. It was what they did. And if they didn't have Bookman here - well, there was always starting over. As clan leader, Bookman wouldn't have minded changing a few things himself, though he'd have never dreamed of actually employing his changes without a general outrage to follow.

"You're looking smug," Miles noted as she walked over to a table. She sat down, and Bookman followed suit. They'd had a rather enlightening talk on their way to the mall while the boys were busy gawking and all-around being teenagers. It was actually a relief to see them acting their ages for once, especially given the fact they were no longer in a war. If he was honest with himself, it pained Bookman to see Lavi have to go through war after war, each bit of his innocent naivete chipped off like so many pieces of shale, especially now when Bookman found himself uncharacteristically... compromised.

"Oh, nothing. Do not mind me. I'm just... enjoying myself," the old man grumbled in his usual drawl, surveying the area as was his habit. He took in all of the surroundings with his usual meticulousness. There were many people, yes, and there were many stores, but nothing really interested him, per se. It seemed that general disinterest in the things of the present did not change from universe to universe.

"So, you know about all this, do you?" Miles asked. She gestured to the entirety of the building, possibly meaning the entirety of the universe in general. Bookman shrugged as Miles dug a water bottle out of her bag.

"I'm old. I see things," Bookman answered simply and cryptically. He was used to being vague. Many people asked questions they didn't want to know the answers to. It was best to be as ambiguous as possible, at times. Never the less, Miles was adamant.

"I sent them off because I needed to talk to you," she stated, and Bookman resisted the urge to sniff derisively. _You think I didn't realize that the minute we stepped in the horseless carriage? _Her entire body language had shouted that she needed to speak with someone, especially after the... incident in the parking lot.

Kanda was a lucky, lucky man. He was born (or created - it was hard to say) with good reflexes, strong training, and, best of all, a knack for sensing trouble and following it. They hadn't been outside for more than three minutes before a missile the size and shape of a shard of glass had nearly hit Allen in the head. The old man had had the time to realize what was happening without the body to react - Kanda, however, had both, and he'd smashed the flying projectile handily with the flat of his sword. What lay on the ground had been a metal bird folded into from a sheet of metal like an origami crane. The edges were razor sharp - when Cameron had picked it up she'd cut her fingers on the folds. It had been flying fast enough to actually scuff Kanda's blade. The bird had been headed towards Cameron, and Miles herself had looked shaken. Several more had rained down after that, all of which Lavi beat off with swift bats of his hammer. Allen himself had invoked his Innocence, to the awe and confusion of those in the parking lot. Luckily, it was not needed. The initial rain was the only rain.

"And yet, you sent them alone," Bookman stated. Miles took on a look of shock and realization. She almost stood up, but Bookman said, "Don't worry. As long as they don't wander off by themselves, they'll be fine. The boys have been trained since they were young to detect and thwart harm that comes their way. Your sister seems to have been trained well, too, hm?" Miles sat down heavily, her shoulders slumping. Her round-necked cotton shirt revealed the edge of a razor, and Bookman sighed.

The witches of this world were no different from the ones in his. The same tattoos, albeit different names, the same rituals, the same _goals _even - humans were so predictable.

"Look, I need to know how much _you _know about us. I need a good estimate on just how well they'll fit in," Miles stated, gesturing out past Bookman towards the Exorcists goofing off near a kiosk. Bookman turned back around to look at them. It was hard to say how well they'd adapt to civilian life, much less civilian life in a different time.

"They're... resourceful. I believe they'll do just fine, given enough time. Is magic common here?" Bookman asked, turning the conversation in a different direction. Miles shook her head, rubbing her temple as she leaned an elbow against the table.

"Hardly. Those that do know about it keep mum to stave off panic. Those that don't know about it are better off. Those that ignore it are idiots," Miles stated simply, and Bookman chuckled. If that wasn't the truth by all accounts.

"Allen will do well in a school, and he will learn fast. He's very sociable, and he is educated to an extent. Lavi will need time to respond to his environment. He wants to know about everything, and that will occupy his mind for a long time before he can actually interact. Kanda... will be harder to judge. Normally he is volatile in most social situations -"

As if on cue, an argument flared between Kanda and a salesman.

" - though I think he knows his limits." Bookman watched Miles contemplate this, and he took advantage of her mental processing to ask, "Are the witches here related to crime as well?" Miles looked surprised by the question, but her look immediately became somber.

"Yeah. Most of them make pacts with gangs. The gangs provide physical protection and the things witches need to complete rituals, most of which are illegal or very hard to obtain, and the witches provide protection in the form of magic and the expedition of drug-making. Witches can take shortcuts most people can't," Miles explained, rubbing her crooked nose. To Bookman, it was all too obvious that Miles was a reformed crook and had been a witch herself. He could almost sympathize - almost. He didn't honestly care either way about her. If she died tomorrow, the only thing he'd really be worried about is the fact that his group would now have to find some other place to stay.

"I will guess that this makes witches fairly dangerous. They have firepower on their side," Bookman stated, leaning back in his chair. Miles looked up, and her eyes were strangely empty.

"Sometimes, it ain't even the witches you need to worry about," Miles stated, taking a sip from her water bottle.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Yet another chapter. Sheesh, I'm on a roll this week, it seems. Twice in the same seven-day is pretty amazing, eh? Also, if you haven't noticed, I'm basing the chapter names off of famous books, and those should give hints as to the main focus of that chapter if you know anything about the reference being made. Obviously, the first chapter is straight off of a book about a man being transplanted to a different time and place. The second is a reference to 'Encounters of the Third Kind', referring to the sudden introduction of magic. I know. I'm a very, very big geek.

I appreciate the reviews, especially from Uniasus for his/her detailed account on all the discussion questions, and from karina001 for the humor and laughs she instilled when I read her response. I'll attempt to work on the things you've said, and maybe make things just that much better.

I have one new favoriteer to add to the Three Favoriteer's ranks! All hail EaglefootMoonflightVipertail (whoo, a mouthful)!

I have no new subscribers, but hey, sometimes that happens. Just gotta keep on rolling, I guess.

And now, _las preguntas discursos: __Do you like the idea of gangs teaming up with witches? What sorts of things can you see these characters doing in a mall (I may not take exactly from what you say, but it will certainly give me inspiration)? This chapter was fairly introspective - good or bad? This chapter is also longer than usual at about 7,000 words - is that too long? Do you enjoy switching between the points of view of different characters, or is it confusing? Who would you like to hear more from or about? What do you think the witches are planning? How much do you want to know about the magic of their current universe? Do you think its possible for the current characters to become magic-users? _

Hopefully things get back on track and I'm on some sort of schedule, though that seems rather unlikely. For now, I'll attempt to keep it weekly.

Happy reading, and God bless!


	4. 2012: A Temporal Odyssey

The very first place to which Cameron dragged the three was the music store. Allen thought this was awfully odd - after all, from his understanding they were going to be buying clothes, necessary toiletries, and the like. He even made a note of that as Cam purposefully strode down the long, open, and airy hallway of shops full of bright products, and her answer had been awfully ambiguous.

"Ah, we can get that stuff later. Besides, Kanda'll get in trouble with another salesman and we'll get kicked out before I get to update my music library. 'Course, now that I have Live Wire I don't really have to worry about that, but, y'know, gotta support your artists and everything..." None of that had made sense to him, whatsoever. All he knew was that they were trying to keep the dour faced Exorcist out of trouble's company, and it looked like Lavi was doing a good job of distracting his attention, even if it was by annoying the living daylights out of the man. Allen snickered as Lavi made kissy faces at Kanda and pretended to hold his hand as they passed an entourage of girls. Kanda just about had it right then and there, and Allen stepped in momentarily to keep Lavi's face in one piece and keep Kanda from getting them all ejected forcefully from this marvelous marketplace.

Allen could honestly say that he liked to shop. It wasn't even a feminine thing - there was something about new, shiny objects waiting to be bought that appealed to both sides of the gender coin. Allen, very much a people-watcher as a people-listener, could see that in the gleam of a man's eye as he strode past a new, pressed suit or a woman stole a glance at a beautiful, handcrafted brooch on a table. Here, he could see the same thing, that general stroke of light which seemed to pass over the eye when a person sees something they like. The white-haired Exorcist was actually very happy to be where he was, now that his stomach was placated (they'd stopped at a restaurant that catered to cars, imagine that, and picked up some food that had come out within minutes - absolute genius, these people!) and his curious mind left unsatisfied by all the glittering new items around him.

Most of those, however, had functions that escaped him. They'd passed by a store with a bizarre assortment of little handheld devices, the same type that Allen had seen Miles use. With a curious, hovering stance he'd tried to examine them quickly and thoroughly, realizing they were the small 'immobile golems' he'd identified before. Entranced, he picked one up only to find it stuck to a cord. He yanked hard, and the cord suddenly snapped taut and pulled the little, hard plastic thing back into its cradle haphazardly, making a loud smacking noise. Noticing that everyone was staring, to his chagrin, he carefully rearranged the device into its correct position as he strove to hide the burn on his face and ears. Oh dear! How mortifying!

"Ne, Alleeeeeen! If you don't catch up, you'll be lost again!" Lavi called, and Allen looked back. Draining of color, he made a choking noise in the back of his throat. They were almost all the way at the end of the hallway! There were so many crowds between him and them - he'd lose them, and then he'd be stuck here _forever. _His sense of direction was atrocious. He could find a way to get lost in a paper bag. His mind suddenly started to ramble -

"- And then I'll never find my way back home and I'll be homeless again and then I'll have to cheat for money and I'll rack up all those bills and- no, no, no, Allen, think positive thoughts," Allen muttered to himself as he tried to catch up. He knew this song and dance a little too well. He'd lost Master Cross in a crowd, once. It took him an entire _fortnight _to find that man again. He'd be loathe to do the same thing over, especially in this new, different environment.

Suddenly, Allen fell over, realizing that while he'd been glowering in his thoughts over that horrible, horrible man and his scheming, carefree ways, he'd accidentally smashed into somebody.

"Oof! Oh, dear, I'm so sorry, I hadn't meant... to..." From his spot on the ground, Allen looked up with an expression that slowly grew more and more incredulous as he stared at the wall of muscle and tattoos glowering over him. A thick man of African descent stared down with hostility, two tear drops at the corner of his eye. He wore bright red shorts and some sort of thin rag around the top of his head with a tank top of indeterminate material.

"Uh... bump into you," Allen finished, ever polite. He stood up bouncily and brushed off the man as if _he _were the one who'd been knocked to the ground rather than Allen. Behind the tall, thick man stood several more fellows, mostly skinny though wearing the same class of garb, if not the exact same as their companion. Allen realized he might've accidentally said something offensive, and he scrambled in his head to find a way- to remedy the situation.

"Do you need anything? I am honestly sorry to have knocked into you, uh, I was... lost in my thoughts. I think... I think I'll just go now," Allen said, beginning to walk around the thick man when a large hand descended on his shoulder.

"I think an apology's gonna be a little inadequate for what I require in terms of compensation," the large man stated imposingly, his diction oddly pronounced. A quick look at the man's companions showed confused faces and blank stares, though Allen could tell that this was the man in charge and he was a little bit more sophisticated than Allen'd first taken him for. The white-haired teenager should've known better - looks were awfully deceiving. He looked back behind him with a slight smile and a sheepish air.

"Well... can't we settle this like gentlemen? After all, it's late in the afternoon and wouldn't it be such a waste to get into fisticuffs? If there's any way I can pay you in kind..." Allen offered, though in his mind he begged, _Not the face, please not the face, the face always hurts ... but if you tell me I have to do dishes, I'll _take _the punch to the face. _Dishes were the bane of his existence. If Allen never saw another plate in his life, so be it as long as he didn't have to do dishes. All those hours scrubbing away Master's debt...

"Oi, Cognac, let him off for once. He doesn't know you're just a big softie," a familiar voice said, and Allen visibly deflated with a bit of relief. It wasn't that he couldn't take this guy on - it just wasn't in Allen to mash his fist into another person's face until they'd swung at him first, and he'd rather avoid that if he could, especially here. He looked around for Cameron, finding her walking towards them through the rows of toughs. Lavi and Kanda were farther down the hallway, outside of a bookstore looking at the wares on racks sitting just outside the entrance.

"Ay, Cam-cam, what brings you here to this fine establishment?" Cognac asked, suddenly much cheerier. He reached for a hug, and the small girl complied heartily. Cameron practically disappeared in the wake of his girth, but Allen could tell that Cameron had the greater presence. He was closely attuned to people, and for the most part it helped him keep out of trouble. He could almost _sense _Cognac going from defensive and bristling to calm and friendly. It was the strangest transition, as if a thunderstorm had just left and all the pressure had lifted. The hand on Allen's shoulder was removed as Cognac grasped hands with Cam in a rather odd gesture that Allen wasn't quite sure he could follow with his eyes. He'd seen some fairly odd handshakes (and boy did street urchins create some _interesting_ hand shakes), but these were of a different breed.

"Just checkin' out the music division of the store, you know. Gotta keep contemporary, know what I mean?" Cam asked, obviously in her element. Allen discreetly stood by her and smiled, waving politely to the men around Cognac who seemed less pleased with Cam's sudden appearance. Internally, Allen sighed. It seemed that society had really gone downhill since the late 1800s. These days it felt like _everybody _gave off this seemingly ever present feeling of distrust and disinterest. Of course, Allen had only been here two days, so he really wasn't anyone to judge, and he reminded himself of this as well. These could be perfectly nice people! After all, just because Kanda's face looked angry didn't mean he actually _was _angry... No, that was a lie. Kanda was always angry. That was a horrible analogy.

"Allen. Allen, Connie just asked you something. Helloooo~?" Allen snapped out of his reverie, and he quickly slapped on a smile.

"Ah, yes! I apologize. I was thinking about something," Allen said, all too apparent that his accent was much more pronounced around such American company. Usually, he wouldn't mind so much, but he felt that it seemed to distance him a little bit from the fellows, some who were looking at him a little bit _too _hungrily...

"I just wanted to inquire of your name, little man," Connie said, extended a single, massive paw. A smile pulled at the corner of his mouth, transforming the thuggish face into a rather pleasant expression of congeniality. Allen nodded as he grasped the hand firmly in his own, not the least bit daunted now. Though he tended to _act _alarmed, Allen was never truly, deeply bothered by anything - well, besides the obvious debts and such, but those were more of a running gag in his life anyhow than an actual worry, especially now that -

Something just occurred to him. In this world... there were no debts for him to pay off. There was no Master to harass. There were no women to beat him over the head with frying pans when they come calling for their money. He was a free man! In this new world he could be anything he wanted: completely debt free!

"Th-the name's Allen," the white-haired boy stated graciously, recovering from his epiphany rather quickly. "I'm new here, um, obviously." Cognac grunted rather affirmatively. The large black man spoke to Cam for a time, and Allen finally took a good look at the other sour-faced, rather skinny men behind Connie. They couldn't be more than twenty years old, all of them rail-hard with muscle and just as thin. They wore strange caps, and they had those rubber shoes on their feet. One tapped on Cognac's shoulder, saying something low in his ear, glancing fervently at Allen. Connie broke off to speak with them, and there was a small, subtle argument.

"How do you know...?" Allen asked, gesturing to the large black man negotiating with his comrades over some such thing. Cam shrugged.

"Miles used to run in the same circles Cognac did, but the guy's mostly reformed from the gang scene, like she is. Those guys behind him are die hards that can't kick the habit, though. I'm not happy to see him with them, but sometimes that's what happens. For a ganger, there're only three places you go - prison, hospital, and grave. Getting out is... difficult," Cam stated rather nonchalantly. Allen nodded. They'd had a rough equivalent where he came from, though they were certainly better dressed than this crowd.

"Why do you call him Cognac?" Cam sniggered behind one overly long jacket sleeve. She leaned towards him conspiratorially, and she explained, "It used to be that my sister would bribe him with vintage cognac after finding out he had a taste for it. She figured _that _out after he'd sucked down an entire bottle Dad gave to her for her twentieth birthday. It wasn't like she drank anyways, though - she just didn't have the heart to turn Dad down." Cognac finished his little disagreement with his fellow mallgoers (an incredibly mild term to describe such a bunch, in Allen's opinion), and he walked over to Cam.

"My... compatriots and I have some business to finish up here. I suggest you stay away from Sears - it won't be pretty. Don't worry, no shootin'. We just have a belligerent little _mole _to harass," Cognac stated, crunching his knuckles between the fingers of the other hand, and doing the same to the other side. Allen tried to keep his eyes from twitching as he listened to the joints pop. It was a pet peeve of his - Kanda did it often enough to cause Allen to suggest cutting off each of his fingers at the knuckles. The usual conflict had ensued...

"I'll see you later, then, Connie. Give some sugah to yo momma," Cam said, playing off the last sentence with an odd, obviously exaggerated accent. Allen smiled a little, forgetting his former annoyance. Connie gave a salute, walking off with a swagger in his step. Allen shook his head, bemused to have met such an interesting person. The others who had come with him followed behind him like a wake about him, each on either side but never directly behind. As Cameron began to walk off, Allen looked back to find one of the stragglers, the same who'd started the disagreement with Cognac, staring at him rather intently. Allen felt shivers down his spine as the man jogged off to catch up with his companions.

"What was that all about?" Kanda grumbled, flipping through a novel. Disinterested by the content, he chucked it back on to the cart of books, which was already horribly disorganized, probably furthered by Kanda's irresponsible slinging. Allen felt his eye twitch.

"Nothing you should concern yourself about. Other than the fact that _someone _has to straighten out those books," Allen sighed, starting to put them in a more orderly state. Kanda glare, and he said, "Well, they're paid to do it. Might as well help the store get their money's worth."

"They wouldn't _need _to if you'd put the books back in order."

"I don't _need _to. Besides, these are all crap. If anything, they deserve to be in a heap."

"I guess that means you and your sort should be in a heap, then, if that's what _crap _deserves."

"You want to keep all your fingers, _beansprout?_"

"I could separate your hands from your wrists before you had time to even say _beansprout."_

"Ladies, ladies, let's move on before we start flinging around other people's metacarpals, okay?" Cam said, stepping in as an intermediary as the ensuing antagonism between Allen and Kanda seemed to cause climate change all by itself. Lavi, so engrossed in the books, hardly even noticed, seeing as he was already used to those two going at each other's throats. Finally, he looked up, blinking at the pair who were glaring at each other enough to cause one man in uniform look a little nervous not fifteen feet away.

"What's going on?" Lavi asked, and Cam slapped her forehead.

Allen kept his composure, suddenly becoming cheery again with a rather smooth transition.

"Well, what are we waiting for? Ready to go?" Allen asked, attempting politeness once more. My, he was embarrassing himself right and left. He couldn't let Kanda ruffle his feathers - after all, attitude was all about reactions! He had to keep positive. Just... just keep positive...

Abruptly Allen felt a downpour of despair as he walked behind Cameron, looking around at the new world he'd landed himself in. He hadn't let himself think about the ramifications of being so far from home. It had dawned on him once or twice that he may never go back - all his friends would be separated from him for the rest of his life, and he'd have to adapt to this place, make new friends, form new connections.

And if he formed those new connections, and it turned out he _could _go back... The thought made him sick to his stomach. So many different friendships and hearts he'd have to break, including his own.

_You're an interesting one, I'll hand you that. Friends... such an odd concept._

The nebulous thought came from nowhere, and Allen almost tripped as the misty thought filtered into his mind slowly. Was... was that...? He was still here? _He _had followed through that gap in time and space?

Of course. Neah's memories were still implanted in his head. The possibility of becoming a Noah was still open, and that meant he could still be a danger.

Panic gripped his stomach at the implications of such an event, and he staved it off. He couldn't let fear rule him. He _wouldn't _let fear rule him. He had to stay _positive -_

"Here we are. The music store," Cam said suddenly, and Allen almost smacked into her as he looked up. He hadn't even noticed that he'd been blindly following her as he'd wrapped himself in his thoughts. Kanda and Lavi didn't look too impressed, though Lavi immediately began fiddling with the nearest devices. Allen could see several clear cases with pictures inside, and he marveled at just how unique and clear the images within were. They were each a little piece of art, just waiting to be found.

"Those are CDs. Most people don't use them any more, but if you wanna go vintage, they're good choice. Besides, if your computer crashes, you can always rely on the CD to keep your music as a hard copy," Cam explained, popping open one of the cases on a rack that said 'clearance' by breaking the seal on the side. Inside, a disk about as big as Allen's palm shone with iridescent light.

"Hey! You gonna buy that?" a person from the counter shouted, and Cam waved with a cheeky smile. Allen raised his eyebrows at the impudence in her stare as she replaced the case on the rack. The person at the counter didn't say anything else as they went back to shelving some other fantastic device. Allen looked around the store at the brightly colored posters and different CDs. They were everywhere on racks, lined up neatly like buildings made of clear, hard plastic. Allen had only ever seen plastic once or twice - it had been a very, very new thing. Here, it was a commodity. People even threw it away! He'd watched them as they'd chucked plastic silverware and boxes for food and cups made of the stuff.

"Whoa, look at this! Ha, this is fun," Lavi said gleefully, playing with yet another machine. Allen was hardly surprised. Lavi got into _everything. _That wasn't always such a bad thing, but it could be awfully annoying when one's bag ended up riffled through by an overzealous Bookman Apprentice. What was scarier was that Lavi had gotten so good at it that sometimes Allen couldn't even tell he'd been there. Allen let out a whooshing breath as he and Kanda got into another argument over something trivial, and Allen went off on his own.

As he flipped through the CDs, he noticed that he was being watched. He was used to that - Akuma were always on the prowl, waiting. This stare, however, was less intense. Allen turned to see some girls standing farther away, talking to each other with bright eyes. They were whispering behind their hands, looking at Allen fervently as he caught sight of them out of the corner of his eye. One of them waved as they met Allen's gaze, and Allen, perplexed, waved back. The girls giggled, and Allen's face began to burn as blood rushed to his head. Stiffly, he walked away, hoping to get away from their searching looks.

"Um, Cam? Cam? _Cam?_" Allen asked, yanking on Cameron's jacket. The younger girl nodded with a distracted tone.

"What? I'm busy," she said brusquely, and Allen whispered, "There are girls staring at me. Is that... is that normal?" Cam looked up, suddenly interested, and she followed Allen's line of sight. There were more girls now. The pack had grown that much larger. They thought they were being sneaky, but they were about as obvious as an elephant. Cam laughed to herself as she slung an arm over his shoulders, and she shouted to the girls, "Sorry! He's taken!" The girls looked shocked at this proclamation, and several of them gave annoyed sighs as they trotted off, talking among themselves.

"There. Problem solved," Cam said, and Allen shook his head.

They spent several more minutes in the music store, listening to the CDs. Lavi liked alternative (whatever that meant), Allen was fond of fifties jazz and pop music, and Kanda of all people like classical compositions. That had definitely been a shocker, until Allen realized that Kanda was listening to a rather roaring battle tune called Flight of the Valkyrie by some man named Wagner.

"What? Got a problem?" Kanda growled as Allen looked over his shoulder at the music selection he had in his hand. Allen only glared as the man 'tched' before going back to listening to more tracks.

Suddenly, Allen noticed that Lavi was missing.

"Hey... hey, where's Lavi," Allen asked absent-mindedly, looking around for the redheaded chronicler. It wasn't like him to wander off, though he was a big boy and he could take care of himself. Lavi, like Allen, was a people person, though he'd never admit it. Being alone didn't suit him.

"Chasing skirts, probably," Kanda muttered under his breath, putting a CD back into its case before replacing it on the rack. Allen sighed, intuition slinging his mind into immediate panic. Something wasn't right here. Lavi _did _have a reputation for being a skirt-chaser, but he also had his head about him. Never the less, Allen couldn't help but wonder where he might've gone. He didn't have a golem with him, so they couldn't call him. He wasn't even in the general vicinity. Allen would've heard him by now.

"Hey, why the long face?" Cam asked, noticing Allen's apparent distress. The young man tried to tamp down his panic. Perhaps he was over thinking this. Lavi could take care of himself. Better yet, he was probably the most aware of all the Exorcists about the world around him. However, Lavi was also curious, and everyone knew what happened to that poor, curious cat...

"Lavi's missing somewhere," Allen said quietly. Kanda had already walked off on his own, and Allen could see him headed towards another store with fake Chinese script above the door. If Kanda was wandering off on his own, surely that redhead was doing the same and keeping himself out of trouble...

"Aw, don't worry about him. He's probably just in the bathrooms. Hey, let's go in to the back section. There's actually some books and anime stuff I want to see," Cam said, pulling on Allen's shirtsleeve. Reluctantly, Allen looked behind him towards the open doorway that Kanda and presumably Lavi had just exited.

"All right. Wait... what's anime?"

* * *

><p>Most people didn't realize this upon meeting Lavi for the first time, but his brain worked in much the same ways a computer did. Lavi could come up with entire scenarios in his head within seconds, and he could identify patterns like no one else. He was always aware of the world around him - it was an occupational hazard for anyone from the Bookman clan. Bookman was much the same way. The two of them could be near omniscient given enough information. In hand-to-hand combat, Lavi could take down a regular man within seconds just from studying him for only a few moments beforehand.<p>

So when things caught Lavi's attention, _something _must be going on. The altercation between Allen and Cognac had not gone unnoticed. Lavi had been carefully keeping an eye on it while scanning the surrounding area. There had been more members of that thug gang Cam had met with in the mall, and all of them had been watching like coyotes on a groundhog. Granted, this groundhog had a hand that could cut through steel and a punch good enough to sock a hole through a rock, but he was still a groundhog, and they were still after his hide. Cam's presence had caused a shift in their demeanor when she'd showed up, though, and that was... interesting.

Lavi had also noticed a rather large amount of heavily made-up girls flocking around. Some of them were flirting - Lavi could attest to that, seeing as he'd had some wink and others smile and yet others become bold enough as to even come up and talk to him. However, there were others that had hungrier tones to their glances, and most of them had been directed at Allen, the most visually striking of their group. Lavi had the ability to blend in, and Kanda knew how to keep quiet, but Allen stuck out a mile with his white hair and pressed, clean appearance.

To compound all this, the heavily-made up young women and the thuggish, hungry men had been talking to each other throughout the store, negotiating things and communicating. Something was going on, and Lavi wanted to know what it was. Above all, Lavi was an investigator - he liked to stick his nose where it did not belong, and he had a hunch his nose was going to get stuck somewhere it was not wanted.

These three tidbits of information would mean absolutely nothing, though, if not for the fact that Lavi was fiercely protective of Allen. The kid was his friend, practically a brother. They'd fought together, joked together, traveled together, heck, they'd even slept in the same bed when they'd gotten in a tight spot and run out of money without any connection to the Order for a confirmation at the hotel. Boy, that'd been awkward, especially seeing as they'd had to share with Jiji. If anyone was going to get hurt out of this whole thing, it was going to be Allen. The kid could take care of himself, and he'd shown that more than once, but his drive to save humanity at every turn could be a hindrance when it came to actual _humans _meaning to hurt him. He was too kind. It was Lavi's self-appointed job to protect Allen from the human threat, while the white-haired Exorcist protected himself from the undead threat.

He followed one of the thin, mangy looking thugs that had come after Allen earlier. The man was packing heat, but so far no one had said anything. It must be commonplace here. The thug turned a corner to a door that said employees only, and Lavi followed about twenty yards behind. It'd be no good to tip them off now.

Lavi headed straight for a store as the guy looked behind him, and he immediately stuck a hat from a rack on his head. He posed in front of the mirror, keeping an eye out for the guy he was tailing. Out of nowhere, another guy, this one wearing a checked scarf around his neck and a pair of orange sunglasses, sidled up to him and he said in a slightly nervous voice, "Hi there. You look nice in that hat."

Lavi stared at him with raised eyebrows. "Uh... Thanks." The other guy winked from behind his sunglasses, and Lavi felt a twitch gather in his eye.

"Um... Say, do you know where the bathrooms are?" Lavi asked, realizing he was losing his quarry. This would give him a reason to leave. The other man seemed pleased at this question, which was awfully odd, and he said enthusiastically, "Down the atrium, to the left, and through the food court. You can't miss it."

"Thanks a lot," Lavi said brightly, and he started to walk away, but not before feeling something slip into his back pocket. Slightly perturbed, Lavi looked back to see the other man speaking with a gaggle of girls excitedly, and Lavi felt in his back back pocket as he tailed his original goal. He pulled out a slip of paper with a bunch of numbers on it, and he frowned.

The heck? Why would anyone stick a bunch of numbers in his pocket?

Suddenly, a girl headed towards him, shy-looking and coy. In his head, Lavi groaned.

_Don't come this way. Come on, find another guy to hit on. Once is enough. Don't do this to me. _

In complete contrast to his mental commands, the girl walked up to Lavi and twiddled her fingers. She glanced at the ground, cocking her head to the side as Lavi continued to walk. She kept pace with him, and Lavi felt a strange pressure in his head. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, wondering why the air pressure was changing around him.

"I-I just... just wanted to ask you a question," the girl said, and the pressure continued to build. Lavi was beginning to feel light-headed. Out of nowhere, he could smell the faint odor of whiskey, hominy, and arsenic. Underneath all those smells was an underlying aroma Lavi couldn't place but definitely remembered.

_Crap. _

"Yeah, sure, what is it?" Lavi asked. The pressure followed him, and he was beginning to have difficulty breathing. He had to think, quick. Someone was trying to throw him off the trail. He'd been noticed. The thug he'd been following had disappeared, and this girl was looking less and less shy. If anything, she looked -

He was such an idiot. He was standing next to a witch. That shy look and the guarded gaze had been combined with the twiddling fingers to hide her hand gestures she must be using to cast a spell or something along those lines. If he could get those hands to stop moving...

"You know what happens to people who have their lungs crushed under pressure?" she asked quietly, as if she were inquiring about directions. Her hair was pulled back and the color of mud. Her eyes were thickly lined with eye liner, and she had on too much blush. She looked young, but her demeanor had changed from coy, little girl to confident, experienced woman. She slowly smiled, and Lavi was beginning to see spots in his vision. He glanced at her hands, noticing that she was still doing the little twirl of the fingers. The people around him were completely oblivious to what was going on. He was passing shop after shop, and every person seemed to be looking the wrong direction. It wasn't like they could see what was going on, anyways. It was all invisible.

Lavi shook his head, knowing he was trapped. The cloud of pressure would follow him where ever he went. He could still move, but breathing was like trying to suck in and exhale water. The air in his body was compressing as more and more pressure was being put on him, so he had to keep taking deep breaths. He knew enough from deep diving to keep himself from fainting or collapsing. Still, if this continued he'd end up incapacitated. He couldn't just hit her here and now. That would be incriminating, not to mention her word against his. But... he could make it look like an accident. However, if he wasn't careful, he'd end up depressurizing, and all that air would expand...

"Well, the nitrogen and the oxygen in the air becomes toxic, and your body absorbs all that toxic waste. Once I let go, well... bye bye body. I hope you like the bends. I hear it's a rather nasty way to die," the girl said, smiling pleasantly at Lavi as the redhead fought to stave off the increased pressure on his body.

"Thanks for the lecture. You wanna let me go now?" Lavi said, cracking his own, pained smile. The tip of his hammer, a rather long spike, jammed into the center of her back, and the girl walked a bit slower after that. Lavi knew that it would take him only seconds to ram the tip of the spike into her spine, possibly paralyzing her for life, before she could build up enough pressure to kill him. She'd been slowly increasing the pressure around him, and he'd wondered why. At first, he'd thought it was to gloat. Now he realized that she'd been buying time, killing two birds with one stone by throwing him off the trail and killing him simultaneously. Now the question begging to be answered happened to be this: why would she want to kill him rather than just distract him? Sick pleasure? Some other motive?

The pressure around him began to lessen slowly. The girl looked slightly panicked now as she glanced around, and Lavi said, "No use calling for help from your gal pals. By the time they get anything going, you're going to be a paraplegic." To the general populace, it looked like they were having a nice conversation with Lavi's hand at her back, the picture of the dating couple. Lavi could easily play off anything that came his way. He could create entire alternate universes in seconds if he needed to. He was that good.

"Let's take this outside, shall we?" Lavi asked. It wasn't long before he led her outside and into an alley way. Lavi grasped both the girl's hands, and the pressure abruptly ceased. He blacked out for a moment, but the moment wasn't long enough to keep him from breaking his hold on the witch in front of him.

"What's the reason behind murder, eh? Did I call you ugly in a past life or something?" Lavi asked, half-joking. His smile was downright creepy, and it was meant to be. Fear was a great instrument, if one knew how to employ it right. The witch struggled as he pressed her to the wall.

"Get off of me!" she gasped, squirming. Lavi could hear footsteps, and he knew he didn't have much time. He dug his fingernails into her wrist, and she let out a small screech. He stepped on her foot and rammed her against the wall. She sagged against the wall, terrified.

"She wants you! She wants all of you dead! You've got a bounty on your head! Iris'll give twenty grand for each of you! Don't kill me, I didn't -!" the girl squealed, and Lavi pressed a small point on her neck. Her eyes rolled into her head, and she fell sideways as he let her collapse. She'd wake up in about two hours with an incredibly sore neck and a bruise on her wrist, but Lavi could've done much worse. She was young and had time to think about life for a while. He wouldn't have been so kind to an older lady.

By the time the three other girls arrived at the alley, Lavi was already back in the mall, whistling to himself and feeling awfully good about himself, despite being lightheaded.

He had no idea what trouble he'd just gotten himself into.

* * *

><p>"Could you tell me how this magic works?" Bookman asked, leaning back in his chair while chewing on the end of his pipe. He'd borrowed some money to buy a notebook and pencil, and he had the two items in his lap as he stared attentively at Miles. She'd filled him in on most of the world events for this dimension, and quite a bit of it mirrored his own home world. He'd suspected this already. Lavi would be greatly pleased to know this as well. It would be less work for the both of them. Presumably quite a bit of the underground influences behind those events were also the same as those that were at work from whence they'd come. Now, he wanted to know exactly what he was up against. His curiosity had yet to be sated.<p>

Miles chewed on the end of a stirring stick. They were sitting in a wonderful little cafe called Starbucks. Several people around them were on different devices while drinking some rather high end, expensive drinks. Bookman himself had tried the tea, and though it was lacking in general originality, it was still of fair quality and palatable enough. He picked up his cup of tea and sipped as Miles started her exposition on magic.

"All magic is some form of energy, in one way or another. Kinetic, thermal, electric - all of it can be employed for magical usage. It's what drives magic. You can't just make something from nothing. Energy changes from one form to the next effortlessly, and all magic does is control that transition from one sort to another. The fancier lights and sparks stuff is practically useless of course, and most of that is charlatan tomfoolery all around, because actual magic tends to be completely invisible. I can make candles go out, the lights flicker on and off, and turn the room cold with a couple of well-placed spells, but things like moving people around and transferring objects takes real work," Miles explained in a voice just low enough to be low-key but loud enough not to cause suspicion. A lot of people didn't realize that a whisper could be just as telling as a shout.

Bookman nodded. He'd figured this for himself.

"Do you use your own bodily energy to do magical feats?" he asked, and Miles scoffed. She shook her head.

"Takes too much out of you. It's a lot easier just to take the energy of a flame or an outlet and direct it somewhere else. The real trick to magic is being creative with energy flow. I can pop a guy's tires by rubbing my hands together and making them hot by transferring the sound energy my hands make to heat along with the friction already in my hands and laying them both on the tires, but it'd burn my hand as well as the rubber. There are special wards and stuff you can put around you to keep that sort of thing from happening, but those take energy too, albeit in a more concentrated form," Miles said, taking a drink off her own latte. Bookman nodded, scribbling down everything she said in shorthand.

"What are those containers, then? The things you use to run wards?" he asked. He noticed that there were people staring at him. He was used to that. He must look strange, with his question mark ponytail and kohl-lined eyes. In this day and age, even more so. What worried him, though, was the fact that several of those people were young, thin, dark-skinned men who looked less than congenial. He kept this to himself.

Miles had picked up on it, too, though. She was in police mode, automatically looking up and scanning the area around her, constantly on surveillance. Bookman was amazed that someone so young had already learned that skill, but given her background it wasn't quite a surprise.

"We usually use regular batteries, like the stuff you get from the grocery store. They work fine. Electrical sockets will, too, but they sap your electricity bill like no other. For the really old witches, they grow their own crystals, and those hold energy well because of the way they're made. Crystals have a what'sitcalled... uh, a matrix, y'know, out of all the atoms and stuff. Makes holding energy really efficient, if you can figure out how to do it. They can leak, though, and that makes them dangerous," Miles explained. "They tend to be explosive. Otherwise they just fall apart and end up useless." Suddenly, Miles went taut as a piano string, and Bookman could sense danger behind him.

"There's a guy at your six o' clock who doesn't look too happy. Just sit tight and I'll see what's going on," Miles said, getting up. Bookman watched her go with a bit of a scoff. If she thought he was going to sit here and wait to be ambushed, she was stupider than he gave her credit for. The little old man got out of his chair, and he shuffled off to watch from a distance. Already, he could see her tall frame weave in and out of the crowd towards the source of the problem, a skinny man with his hair in black, small braids close to his head. There was a short talk between the two of them before the littler man reached for a weapon.

Bookman acted as fast as he was able. Two needles, both hair-thin and nigh invisible, lodged themselves into points on the man's neck, and he dropped to the ground as Miles cocked back a fist. Several people shouted in surprise at the downed ganger, though Miles didn't seem too surprised. As Bookman came closer, she muttered, "Nice shot." The old man shrugged modestly as he removed the needles, leaving two neat holes in the man's neck.

"He'll be fine in a few hours. He's just paralyzed. I believe he has a weapon on him," Bookman said, raising non-existent eyebrows. Miles lifted the man's shirt, and sure enough there was a gun in his waistband.

"I bet my last fifty bucks he's not carrying a concealment permit," she muttered before a cop came by to check out the hubbub. They gave their account of the events, and the cop nodded, looking jaded and somewhat weary.

"These kid don't know when to quit," he muttered after calling back up. Almost immediately after, Lavi ran up to Bookman, and he spilled, "There's a price on our heads, twenty grand a pop. I just had a girl try to crush my head in like a melon using air, and I'm not exactly happy about that." Bookman's face turned dark. That wasn't good at all. He closed his eyes and nodded.

"We'll have to leave. Ms. Miles, I do believe we should be gathering our fellow shoppers," Bookman said. Miles had already whipped out a phone and was calling her sister. By the time she'd finished, her face was white.

"Cam just told me that Kanda's gone missing, and there's a crowd down near Sears. She checked up on the radio waves with a pair of headphones from the music store, and the guy's description matches him. Allen's gone, too," Miles said gravely. Lavi's expression betrayed his worry, but he was quick to gloss over it.

"Let's split up. We'll be faster that way."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Yet another chapter. Man, I'm on a roll today. So far, that's two. Maybe I might actually get everything updated all at once! Huh, if that wouldn't be nice... This story is rolling along quite smoothly, and so far it's only been four chapters. That's a pretty good head of steam for an AU-ish story, eh?

Well, on to the recognition section! Big thanks to my reviewers. I love input of any sort (and even flames have a note of truth to them somewhere). I loved the detail you guys put into the reviews, especially with answering the discussion questions. Muchos kudos to Uniasus, karina001, UsuixMasakilover, toadstoolteaparty, Zodiark Savior, PrevalentMasters, and IncredibleIdiosyncrasies. Wow, that's a lot of people! Always remember, you don't always have to answer the discussion questions (obviously, they're optional) and feel free to expand on anyone question as far as you want. If you have any other questions, just PM me.

I have a single, new favoriteer, and that is kagehi! Ah, such a simple, yet elegant, name.

And oh boy oh boy, I have my subscribers list going, too. Thank you, thank you, thank you... -adjusts glasses- ... BUT I AM ALREADY IN MY PYJAMAS? Wow, what a loud name. I love the caps, though. And of course, Drivenbysound and kahegi. Oh how sweetly my heart sings when my subscribe list grows and grows. But, it's not the quantity, it's the quality! As long as there are readers, I'm happy.

And now, for the favorite part of the story: Discussion! _What sort of 'trouble' has Lavi gotten himself into now? What exactly do you think happened to Allen and Kanda? Are the Exorcists in any real danger? Are you enjoying the characterization? Allen is the character I truly have trouble writing for - do you think the prose is in line with his character? Do you like the villains so far? Who are your favorite characters and why? What are your favorite moments thus far in the story and why? What quotes do you like out of the story? What sort of things do you think could be added to the story to make it better? _

Do leave me a word or two if you feel so inclined, and don't forget to keep on reading. Stories are the path to imagination, and you can never have too much.

God bless you, and happy reading!


	5. A Brave New Century

"Crap, crap, crap, crap, _crap," _Cam muttered to herself as she looked around. She couldn't find Allen _anywhere. _Dang it, this was worse than the time she was supposed to be babysitting Tia Marcy's toddler Jay-Jay and he'd gotten his head stuck in a chair. They'd had to saw it in half to get him out! Of course, Allen wasn't a five-year-old, but he _was _a temporal foreigner. Who knew what sort of trouble he could get himself in to.

They'd both been trying on clothes, figuring out what sort of stuff would fit him. She'd paid for about a week's worth of stuff out of her sister's bank account (and hoo boy, she hoped Gale didn't look at the bank statements any time soon), and she had to say that Allen looked pretty freakin' amazing in the right T-shirt and jeans. He already had to beat off girls with a stick wearing that silly Victorian get-up - now he was going to have to upgrade to a crow bar to keep them off his back.

The mall wasn't overly crowded, but there were still quite a few people. Suddenly, a familiar shock of red hair bobbed over the crowd, and Cameron ran towards Lavi. She kept an eye out for other witches, which undoubtedly were flocking the mall. This was one of their favorite places. Those who were good at illusions had more than enough ability to use their five-finger discount with a bit of a magic boost, and witches didn't like other witches encroaching their territory.

"Hey, you seen Allen?" Cam asked, trying not to seem nervous. The eye-patchy teenager scratched his face, and he looked sheepish.

"Eh, well, I thought... no, no I haven't. You mean you haven't either?" Lavi asked, suddenly becoming serious after deflating in admission. Cam groaned, rubbing her face.

"For the love a' Pete, I was supposed to make sure he didn't get lost. I take my eyes off of him for two seconds, and he disappears. He's worse than my cousin Jay-Jay," Cameron grumbled as she turned around. All she could see were skylights, kiosks, girls wearing near nothing, and guys who were up to no good. Allen was kind of hard to miss in this crowd. Where could he have gone?

"You seen Kanda either?" Lavi asked, and Cam scoffed.

"What, the guy with the stick so far up his anus it's coming out his nose? No, I haven't seen him. He left quite a while ago, probably to the culinary store down near Sears. They've got plenty of knives he'd be interested in," Cam said, brushing the question off. Kanda wasn't too much her concern. Yeah, he was more likely to get in trouble and thrown in jail, but at least they'd know where he was. Allen... was a completely different story.

Lavi made distressed noises as he realized that he'd lost _both _his travelling companions. Cam may not seem overly worried, but Lavi didn't like the idea of either walking around on their own, especially in an environment they were so foreign to. Lavi could blend in anywhere. It was his _job. _He could become anything, anyone, at any time, and if that meant going chameleon in this odd place with all its doodads and gizmos, he was perfectly okay with that.

Mostly. He'd work out all the other emotional stuff later. Right now, he needed to go and find his friend.

"I guess the first place we should check is that round food place thing that we passed through."

"...Uh, dude, do you mean the food court?"

"Yeah! Whatever that is! Point being, Allen's a big eater -"

"Psh, no kidding."

"-and if he's anywhere, he'll be there. Come on."

And, just like that, all the lights very suddenly switched off.

* * *

><p>Allen washed his hands in the bathroom sink, feeling <em>much <em>better. He may have gone a little overboard at that small restaurant with the sticky chairs and bright, yellow 'M'. Still, it wasn't every day he was allowed to drink wonderful, sparkly drinks out of massive, plastic cups...

Suddenly, someone else came into the bathroom, and Allen looked up in the mirror as he rearranged his hair into something that resembled order. Ugh! How did he get french fry in his hair? Wait, Lavi had started chucking food at him after Allen had called him a bean pole. Ah, of course, that's where it'd come from.

The boy who'd walked in wore a checked scarf and bright orange sunglasses (how odd! These styles never ceased to amuse him), looking around expectantly. Allen could hear girls outside the bathroom, and he groaned internally. He'd been trying to evade many of the female gender. They confused him with their coy looks, their finger waves, their little giggles...

Lenalee had never been like that. Lenalee was just... well, Lenalee. Come to think of it, he didn't ever recall girls acting quite so... _forward. _

"Hey, I'm looking for a... um, an acquaintance. Have you seen him any where?" the boy asked, and Allen looked as he turned to leave. He smiled, and he said, "Well, it's just me in here. I haven't seen anyone around." The boy looked slightly dejected, but he smiled nonetheless.

"Thanks, then. I guess I'll just be going," he stated in a disappointed tone.

And then, of course, the lights went out.

The girls outside screamed, and the boy let out a high-pitched squeal of surprised fear. Allen was not quite so fazed. He was used to odd happenings, and he didn't like this particular event. Intuition told him that something was about to happen, something he was not entirely fond of...

The door opened, and Allen could hear a set of three footsteps. Dark, low voices talked amongst each other as Allen searched for the door. All of a sudden, Allen felt someone attempt to grab him, and he pushed away automatically. The other two footsteps came near as someone yelled, "This one! I got him right here!" Allen mule kicked backwards, easily taking down the first assailant with a hit to the knee. Allen closed his eyes to keep himself from getting distracted, using the tricks that Cross had taught him (or, at least, thrown him into, more like). Pinpointing the general whereabouts of the other two, Allen lashed out his Innocence-laden hand and smashed a fist into the first one, near the ear. A large earring cut through his skin, but it quickly healed over as Allen pivoted and jabbed an elbow into the stomach of the next assailant. A knife whistled near his ear as the second one tried to take a dig at his ribs, and Allen brought a fist up into the attacker's wrist, narrowly missing.

Realizing he'd bought himself time, Allen backed up towards the door. He heard whimpering in the hallway of the bathroom, and he gently stated, "Come with me. It's not safe here." The boy with the sunglasses immediately leaped to his feet and clung to Allen as the two scuttled their way out, the three assailants left either moaning or groping in the dark for their target.

It was still dark in the mall, but Allen's eyes were adjusting. There were plenty of skylights above, and the dim light of overcast sunshine drifted down lazily, illuminating dust motes.

It didn't take long for Allen to realize that he was being targeted. He needed to find Lavi and Kanda. They, too, could be in danger. Oh, how he missed Tim...

* * *

><p>Kanda riffled through some of the shirts in some store called Sears, sniffing at the poor selection. Everything was plaid and made of some weird sort of rough material. Considering this was, well, <em>the future, <em>he'd thought they'd make something a little more comfortable. Besides, this wasn't really his style. He'd been looking for something familiar, like a white button-up or a sleeveless shirt, but so far he'd found nothing besides cotton T-shirts. Tch, everything was so... generic.

As he walked back towards the entrance, he was abruptly run into. Kanda stood like a rock, but the other man went down like a sack of potatoes. Kanda seethed, "Watch it, retard." The other man, an Oriental with seedy looking features and shoulder-length black hair, threw himself back into an upright position, and growled, "Wanna say that again, punk?" Kanda towered over the smaller man, eyes narrowed, and he stated, "Sure. Watch. It. Re-_tard._" The man suddenly cringed under the weight of Kanda's withering glare, and finally Kanda realized why the man had been running in the first place.

Angry voices shouted behind the Asian man as a large, portly dark-skinned man along with several other lackeys came out of the fitting rooms. The Asian looked behind him, and Kanda noticed his shoulders stiffen. He was bruised - he could see several new acquisitions as well as a few cuts on his face. It looked like he'd gotten in trouble with the five pursuing him.

"Over there! Let's get him!"

" 'ey, Rosco. We ain't done with our appointment yet! You ain't even seen Mr. Knifey-knife!"

"Where you gonna run now, you nasty li'l -"

Kanda's eye twitched as the other guy bolted and abruptly smashed into Kanda... again. This time, Kanda caught the guy by the T-shirt, and the Japanese man lifted him up and set him to the side like he was a puppy that was in the way.

"Stay here," Kanda stated. The man couldn't do anything but oblige.

Kanda didn't do things because he _liked _people. Oh no, if anything, he hated people with a burning passion. To him, they were all freaking idiots in one way or another, and the world would just be better off without them (or so he liked to believe). However, there were moments where that old chivalry rises, and Kanda was left with that nagging feeling of generosity. This was one such time.

More than anything, he hated seeing someone beat down without a fair fight. That was just wrong. He smirked. He'd fight this with his left hand only. To be fair.

"Ooooh, looks like boyo has dumb muscle on his side. This one of your Chink friends?" a particularly mouthy individual spouted off. Out of the corner of his eye, Kanda could see a store clerk frantically calling on a phone at her desk. He internally scoffed. _Like that's going to do anything, lady. _Kanda cracked the knuckles of his left hand as the five circled. The big one hung back, though, looking awfully thoughtful.

"Hey, boys. I think y'all should lay off of this one. Methinks he be more than you bargain for," the big one stated, sounding oddly distinguished for his company. Kanda was tempted to spit, but he felt that would be rude to do so in a store.

So he spit anyways. It landed on one, rubber-and-canvas shoe. The offended wearer was anything but happy.

"Oi, I payed a hundred friggin' bucks for these!" A fist swung his way, and Kanda batted it aside like it was a fly. The man was sent into a rack of clothes, knocking the whole thing over. Another two came at him immediately after the first, deciding to take the opening, and Kanda ducked under one, and flipped him on top of the other. The fourth one, this one more hesitant, removed a knife, and Kanda grinned, revealing a maniacal gleam that could scare the pants off of any serial killer in either dimension.

"Fun," Kanda muttered. It didn't take him long to relieve the man of his knife and turn it on him, cutting a gash into his leg. The other two from before had recovered -

The lights suddenly went out, and Kanda couldn't have asked for better circumstances. Psh, these amateurs couldn't hit a house if they were standing right next to it. Never the less, he did find it a nuisance when one had him in a choke-hold and the other stabbed him in the arm. Kanda grasped a forearm, and he wrenched to the side, hearing the pop and snap of a breaking elbow joint. The man screamed as Kanda threw him to the side and pulled off the other man on his back. The big one hadn't interrupted as of yet, and Kanda doubted that he would.

That one was smart. He was the one to look out for.

The lights flickered back on, and Kanda found himself facing a single, lone assailant, the first who'd had his shoe spit on. He was breathing hard, staring at his downed companion. One of them had an arm bent in an angle that was not possible, nor meant to be, another had blood pouring for his lip as well as a probable head wound, and the third was holding on to a near-hamstrung leg. Kanda gestured with two fingers of his left hand, smirking.

The final one removed a gun from his waistband, a large, ugly metal thing that seemed to exude malevolence. Kanda raised a single, sarcastic eyebrow. Guns he could handle.

However, he didn't get the chance to deal with the problem. A tall, blonde woman with a crooked nose suddenly walked in front of him, took the assailant's arm, and snapped upwards with her other arm. The attacker's eyes flew wide open with pain as he dropped the gun, and Miles contorted his arm again so it was up behind his back. He protested loudly, cussing as profusely as possible, as Kanda watched the cop-in-training kick his knees in so he was kneeling on the ground.

Kanda looked back to the Asian guy that he'd just saved, who looked rather shocked. He rubbed his throat, and he fidgeted uncomfortable next to Kanda. He suddenly smiled, crooked teeth gleaming out from a cavernous mouth, as he patted Kanda's shoulder, and he stated, "Man, we gonna be fri-"

Kanda didn't waste time punching his lights out. That's what he got for running into him and dragging him in here in the first place. He hit the floor harder than lead from a second story building. Whatsherface stared at him with incredulity.

"The heck you do that for? He didn't do anything, did he?" she asked, putting a knee in her chosen man's back. Kanda was busy looking about, trying to find the fat, dark-skinned man from before. It appeared he'd left as soon as the lights had gone out. He wasn't surprised. That one was definitely smarter than he let on. Not everyone had the brains to know when to run.

Allen and Lavi included. Especially Allen.

"Tch," was the only reply he gave, crossing his arms. Just as he'd promised himself, he'd only used his left hand. Ha, these guys might as well have been blindfolded the entire time. Absolutely no problem whatsoever. Of course, there was that little mess on his arm, but hey, nobody's perfect.

Police soon showed up, and Kanda immediately felt apprehensive. He didn't like authority. More than anything, he hated _uniformed _authority. No wonder he'd been so belligerent towards the Order. Still, they took the four, and Officer Whatsherface had a small talk. Kanda stood off, hoping not to be noticed. He could see Bookman standing off, not getting involved. The old man was a smart cookie, too. Kanda himself hoped he wouldn't have to deal with any of that mess. He didn't like sitting in a chair and answering questions. He was definitely a quiet guy. Telling stories was not his strong suit.

Lavi appeared pretty soon after that, followed by Whatsherface's sister, the drama queen. Those two were a match made in hell. They knew _exactly _how to push Kanda's buttons. They were too loud, they were too touchy, and they were too confident. It wasn't the best combination he could think of.

And then _Allen. _Kanda immediately felt murderous. As much as Allen was a definite equal, Kanda _did not _like the Beansprout. Optimism, pfeh. He could shove it about 'optimism' and 'hope' and 'saving people'. Most people didn't want to be saved (though the screaming masses that fled from Akuma would definitely beg to differ). Hope and optimism... After everything he'd seen, they were little more than pretty paper to dress up a dreary, brown package with nothing inside of it. And, to be honest, Kanda liked his package to be simple, plain, and straightforward.

There was nothing pretty about life. You came in, screeching and covered with blood and fighting it every minute, and most of the time, at least for Exorcists, you usually left the same way.

"What did you _do?_" Cam asked, staring at the number of guys who'd been tied with strange, plastic loops to each other. They all looked like they would recover in a few weeks, if that. Even holding back, Kanda had done a number on them. The Japanese man was watching over the racks and into the mall, a habit born of looking out for Akuma. He always knew when people were watching him, and there were _definitely _a couple of people on their trail.

"It looks like Yuu had a little fun, ne?" Lavi quipped brightly as he hung on to Allen, who protested to his personal space being invaded. For once, Kanda could empathize. Being attacked by the Idiot Rabbit was no fun for him either. Kanda sniffed. He suddenly narrowed his eyes as he watched the same four girls walk past again. They all walked by at different times in different groups, but it was always the same four, and they were a little _too _interested in the store to be wanting to buy simple clothing items.

They especially had their eye on Lavi, and not in the least lascivious way, as Kanda would've expected. Kanda had noticed that, too - girls, and even some guys, staring at the three of them in a way Kanda doubted had anything to do with mere curiosity. He didn't like it. For one, he wasn't used to it. For two, girls were... kind of icky and confusing. For three, being watched always gave him a bad feeling, no matter the reason. Still, as he watched the four girls go on their way, a nagging in him called him to blink and focus, an odd pulling sensation at his mind as if it had snagged on something he couldn't sense with his physical body.

And then, just like that, the entire world changed in an instant into swirling color, light, and humming, thrumming energy. A film had been placed over his vision, the real world overshadowed by a skeleton of bright lines and wonderful, indescribably color. In that moment, he noticed that the lights coming from Lavi and Allen and Bookman were distinctly different from Cam's and Miles', an innate intuition telling him that he too would glow with the same light. The four girls were not the same colors as Cam or Miles. They were blurry and indistinct, half-formed smudges of dimness. Blobs of light similar to each girl's own color was hovering nearby.

"Kanda? Whoa, Kanda, are you okay? Hey, snap out of it," a voice said, and Kanda blinked. The entire nightworld he'd seen vanished in an instant like someone had ripped a screen from the front of his vision, revealing the world to him again in all its stark, brilliant, every day form. The world of light he'd witness seemed to have burned an image into his eyes, though, like he'd been staring into the sun. He shuddered, looking at Lavi.

"What are you staring at, idiot?" Kanda seethed, shoving his shoulder and walking away, confused by what he'd just witnessed. Lavi put up his hands in his usual noncommittal manner and stated, "I didn't do anything, serious!" Kanda ignored his answer and continued heading towards the girls outside of the Sears, all of them talking among themselves in very non-girlish fashions. There was no giggling or glancing or snide expressions. It was just plain, straight business talk, something very serious, and Kanda knew for certain that the four were witches. That aura they'd had, the color of the light they'd thrown off...

"Hey. You four. The ones with the bad hair," Kanda said loudly as he neared them, and the girls looked up. They smirked and took on poses of 'toughness', but Kanda could tell that they were worried. After all, none of them topped five foot four, and Kanda was a good half-foot taller, not to mention just plain _bigger. _He crossed his arms and stated, "Go home."

"What? You can't be serious. What are you, a mall cop?" one of the girls asked insolently, and Kanda wanted to punch her in the face. However, he was feeling _nice. _The most he'd do was scare her. He cracked his knuckles, and he ordered again, "Go. Home. And tell whoever it is that's been sending you and your _kind _out here that they're going to be in a world of hurt if they keep messing with things they shouldn't." The girls glanced at each other before one of them muttered, "He's crazy. Come on, let's call security or something."

"Go ahead. I've got all the time in the world," Kanda grumbled, towering over them. The girls slowly began to walk away, slinking like chastised hyenas from a particularly grumpy lion. Lavi peered over his friend's shoulder and asked, "What was _that _about?" Kanda gave his stock answer as he began to walk back to the store.

"Tch."

* * *

><p>"Okay, so, bread, milk, eggs, icecream, chips, soda, bananas, tampons - am I missing anything?" Gale asked as she pushed the little wire pushcart towards these large kiosks with moving, black devices that shoved the food around. Lavi and Allen had goofed off the entire time in the super market, even more so than when they'd been in the mall, and now Allen was picking up the tampons with a perplexed look.<p>

"What are these for?" he asked, shaking the small box. Cam and Gale looked at each other nervously before Cam snatched them out of Allen's hand.

"Uh... just... girl things," Cam said mysteriously, and Allen looked at Lavi for help. Lavi himself didn't know, and he shrugged his shoulders. Kanda had decided to go home with Bookman, and so the two were left with Gale and Cam to grab the necessities for the week. They'd also bought toothbrushes (a strange plastic, bristle kind that Allen had thought was used for cleaning anything _but _teeth), toothpaste (which Lavi had squirted all over himself the minute he'd got a hold of a tube), deodorant (which Allen thought was actually some sort of candy), and shampoo (yet another item Lavi couldn't help but get all over his clothes).

"So, what's our plan after this? It's almost dusk," Lavi stated, leaning against the cart. He'd insisted on pushing Allen around in one, but the store manager started to look at them funny, so Cam told them to quit. The two had groaned and whined about it, considering they were having so much fun, and Gale had laughed. She'd never seen two people have so much fun in a super market.

"I had wanted to get Allen enrolled in Cam's high school, but it looks like we're going to have to wait on that. I need to talk to a friend of mine, Sergei, as well as my grandma," Gale said, and Lavi sighed. It looked like happy fun time was over. They'd be going home soon. Lavi walked over to the man swiping items across a red light, and he was fascinated by how the thing beeped every time something else passed in front of it, but only a certain way. What was this magic?

"Hey, could I try?" he asked, pointing to the little red light in its holder. The guy looked up at him with a disbelieving look.

"You're joking," he drawled, and Gale slapped her forehead. Luckily Allen and Cam had run to grab a few more things from the beauty aisle like soap and a razor, so they weren't around to join in the shenanigans.

"Humor me," Lavi said brightly, holding out a hand, and the guy sighed. He pointed to Lavi and said, "He's not from around here, is he?"

"You can say that again," Gale mumbled. "Just let him do it. Not like he's going to hurt anything." The guy behind the counter shrugged, and he handed Lavi the holder with the little red light. The redhead stared at it for a while, trying to figure out how it worked, before Gale held up a can of soup and handed it to him.

"See the bar code? You just swipe the laser over it, and it reads the code. Then, it goes in the computer and logs it in," Gale explained as Lavi did as she said, and it beeped. His face lit up like Times Square at New Year's. The guy behind the counter rolled his eyes in an exaggerated fashion as Lavi asked, "Can I do it again?" The cashier gestured to the rest of their acquisitions, and Lavi went to town, scanning everything.

"This is so much fun! You get to do this as a job? Sheesh, this is a piece of cake!" Lavi asked, and the cashier stared dully.

"After the first thousand times, it loses its novelty," the guy muttered. Lavi suddenly looked at the laser on the inside, wondering what it looked like, and he was immediately blinded.

"AH!" Gale took the handheld laser from him and said, "I think that's enough for one day. Come on, Cashier Boy, let's get this show on the road." Lavi rubbed his one eye with the heel of his hand, and he muttered to himself about laser lights and hammers as Allen and Cam came back. However, Cam looked red as a tomato, and Allen looked... well, confused would be too nice a term.

"Uh, Gale, could you explain the meaning of 'condom' to Allen?" Cam snickered, pointing to the boy who looked like he was being puzzled by a sphinx. Gale opened her mouth and shut it, realizing that she'd never had to explain this before. Teenagers usually understood right away what those were for, and little kids never asked about it. How did she tell this to a guy from the 1800s?

"Why do you ask...?" Gale said suspiciously as she handed grocery bags to Lavi. He was already carrying about six, and he looked like an overburdened camel. Still, bravely he tried to take on as many as possible, feeling guilty if he left so much as one.

"A girl handed me this, and I have no idea what it is," Allen said, handing over a very bright, very familiar looking square. Gale licked her lips as Cam busted out laughing.

"Y-you should've seen the look... on this old biddy's face! This skinny chick was wearing, like, shorts that make my underwear look like freaking granny panties, and this tube top in bright orange and she stuck it in his shirt pocket and- oh my god, it was hilarious, Gale, you should've been there," Cam gasped through giggles and snorts, and Allen still looked hopelessly lost. He shrugged his shoulders as he blushed, knowing that it had to do with _something _... unsavory. Lavi, who'd caught wind of the conversation, suddenly asked Gale, "You want me to explain. We, uh, have something like it." Gale let out a small sigh of relief. She gestured towards Allen, and Lavi handed her the grocery bags. As they walked out of the store, Lavi and Allen walked ahead.

"How do you think he'll take it? That's one blatant pass," Gale muttered to Cam. By now, Lavi and Allen were talking animatedly. Lavi was making hand motions, and Allen still looked confused.

"Ah, he'll be fine. A couple of girls in the mall just about jumped him. I think it's the whole innocence thing he kind of just... radiates. I mean, seriously, he's cute as a button. Girls dig that sort of thing. It helps that he's a gentleman," Cam explained. Now, Allen looked like he'd gotten it. He was nodding his head, smiling, and then, suddenly his face turned to one of horror, and he flung the small, terrible package like it had caught on fire. Lavi laughed and slapped his knee as Allen wiped his hands on his shirt, and Cam grinned.

"Yep. He got it." Gale shook her head. Those boys had a lot to learn.

* * *

><p>"Mama?" Gale asked. Skype was being stupid today, and the image was blurry. Lavi had asked about a thousand questions already about it, and the intern had to threaten to take off his head with Kanda's sword before he'd back off.<p>

"Yes, honey? What is it?" Tanya Miles asked, and Gale sighed. This was always a touchy subject with her mother. The magic gene, or whatever it was that gave someone the ability to see the world as light lines and blurred, energy shapes, had skipped her, and so she'd always been out of the loop concerning Gale's magical abilities until she'd become a teenager. Her grandmother had had to explain everything, and Tanya was still a little... sore about it being kept a secret.

Gale's grandmother had taught her all the old ways of witches, the spells and tricks that were passed from mother to daughter, or in this case grandmother to granddaughter. She was Gale's go-to source on all things magical, and so far her grandmother's advice had been invaluable. Gale didn't know what to do about this problem, though. She'd never had to deal with something so big.

Allen walked by, and he stopped to wave at the camera. Tanya stopped and stared before asking, "Honey, what's with the teenage boys in your apartment?" Gale looked behind her, and she realized that Lavi was standing in the kitchen wearing nothing but his shorts, Kanda was currently polishing his sword using silver cleaner, and Allen, of course, was standing right behind Gale. Bookman was in the bathroom doing... whatever it was old men do in the bathroom.

"Uh, well, you see, that's what I need to talk to Nana about. It's, um, you know..." Gale said, making explosion gestures with her hands to indicate 'magical influence'. Tanya made an understanding 'oh' with her mouth, and Allen asked Gale, "Does she know...?"

"Yeah, but she's not a user. This is my mom. Mom, this is Allen."

"Uh... hello, Allen. Are they from... out of town?" she asked, and Gale wished she could control her facial expressions better. She could swear she just winced.

"You... could say that. Anyways, where's Nana?"

"Who's Nana?" Allen asked.

"My grandma. We call her Nana. It's a Hispanic thing."

"Whatchu talkin' 'bout, _donde esta Nana? _Nana's right here, you stupid," an old woman said, waddling into view. Tanya palmed her face, and Gale's face split into a smile. Allen snickered behind a polite hand, and the old woman seated herself next to her daughter.

"What do you need Nana for, _mija?_" Nana asked, her wrinkled face coming closer, her eye practically filling the screen as she leaned towards the camera. Tanya got up and left, throwing up her hands in despair. Allen stated, "Hello, Nana. I'm Allen. It's nice to meet you." Nana regarded Allen with a critical eye before smiling and saying, "This boy's a keeper. Too bad he's so young. They don't come polite like that no more. Then again, I always say to snag 'em young - you train 'em better." Gale stared at the ceiling, and she took a deep breath as Allen's face colored.

"Pull up a seat, Allen. Maybe you can explain this better than I can. Tell Nana what happened. It's okay - she's a much better witch than I am, trust me." Allen looked uncertain before he launched into his tale of how they had somehow been dumped nearly a hundred years into the future. Nana listened attentively, chewing on the end of an old pipe. At the end, she shook her head.

"Serious stuff, _mija. _You got yourself in some serious stuff. You talk to Sergei yet?" she asked, and Gale winced. Allen, completely new to this, asked, "Who's Sergei? I apologize for the questions, I'm just curious." Gale sighed.

"Sergei is a very rich, very...unfortunate friend of mine in the physics field. He's had dealings with magic, but... in a less benign form. He helped us create a circle that could cross dimensions with the least amount of energy expenditure, only he was caught in the blitz that came afterwards. He's not too happy with the witch community, and I don't know if he'll even talk to me," Gale explained. Allen nodded. He scratched his chin, thinking back.

"Perhaps if you offered something in return for his services, he'd be a little more willing to listen," Allen suggested, and Gale shrugged.

"There's not much I can give him. He's already got just about everything. Now if he'd stop being so sour, he could get himself a girlfriend," Gale muttered, and Nana cackled as she said, "You should offer yourself as his girlfriend, and then you can lead him along on a leash just about everywhere. I could give you some nice love potions that -"

"_Nana. No. Love. Potions,_" Gale groaned, putting her face in her hand. Allen could only guess the havoc that love potions had caused. He'd seen some of the effects first hand from the Science Department. Oh, the horrible consequences of a simple attraction draught...

"Alright, alright. Fine. You want some real magic help, though, you gotta see Mama Constancia down in Mexico. Now _she's _a good'n. She knows everything there is to know about summons, one of the best _teletransitrists _out there. The other ones that are just as good are also a little crazy, so she's the safest bet. You'll need to book tickets for a flight down there. She should be able to tell you how to fix your little problem," Nana said, and Gale sighed to herself. Plane tickets weren't cheap. How was she supposed to get them _all _down there? She couldn't just leave the boys here -

The phone rang, and Gale got up.

"Hang on, Nana. Allen, shouldn't you be going to bed?" Gale sighed, and Allen scratched the back of his head in embarrassment. Allen looked up at the screen and Nana grinned.

"Ain't had any trouble as of late, right?" Nana asked, and Allen winced.

"I was attacked a few times since I've been here, but other than that everyone's been incredibly sweet," Allen said with a bright smile. Nana shook her head.

"Yep. They certainly don't make them like they used to. Shew boy, I would've like to have met you in my younger days, instead of that no-good, rotten, horse-stealin', rooster-struttin' Orlando," Nana grumbled, and Allen blinked several times. What was it with women in this dimension? It was like he was some sort of magnet! This wasn't funny!

"Mother! Papi was _not _a horse-thief! _You _were the horse thief!"

"And I was good at it, too! Better than your Papi, even. I didn't get caught, the sucker."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **So, here I am again, finally! I know, I've been _so _late. I said weekly, and obviously that didn't pan out. Right now I'm on vacation - things should get a lot less hectic (hopefully), but seeing as my internet tends to be spotty considering I'm in the Third World, updates will be sporadic, as always.

Big, big, big thanks to Uniasus and karina001 for their wonderful input on the last chapter. Very good on the answering my crit questions! I love it, I love it, I love it! As well as the speculation on Kanda, which was amazing. I hadn't thought of that, honestly, but perhaps it will become an important piece of the puzzle now. Keep those reviews coming! Input is probably the best thing you can give to a writer, even if its just a small note on something you thought was interesting.

There are two new favoriteers to add to our ranks; give a big welcome to quillop and Lotus seed! Both of them are amazing reviewers as well as favoriteers. Go multitalented people! Be sure to check them out.

And my subscribing family is getting bigger, especially now that I have quillop and Bleachfan462. See what I meant by multi-talented? S/he's sure to get everything on this, and I'm amazed. I honestly didn't think this story was good enough to warrant subscription AND favoriting.

And, finally, the discussion questions: _Were the fight scenes confusing? Did you have trouble following what was going on? Were the fight scenes well executed, or did they fall flat? What happened to Kanda's vision for those three or four seconds? What other modern day devices do you think the 19th century characters haven't encountered yet? How do you like the setting? Are the OC's enjoyable to read? Is the story suspenseful, or is the plot beginning to drag? _Again, feel free to elaborate on any one question, or review on your own notes, comments, etcetera. Even better, combine the two if you want!

Now, I'm off to do another chapter, and hopefully get it down within the month...

God bless you, and keep reading!


	6. Paintrunner

"So, let me get this straight. You're both students from London here with Cameron and Gale Miles, two Hispanics who just _happen_ to be your cousins, in order to learn more about America? And you somehow managed to lose all your paperwork? _And _you don't have passports or ID or any of your old transcripts? You don't have back-ups or something?" The school secretary looked mightily suspicious. Allen could already feel sweat dripping down his back. He hoped it wasn't obvious how nervous he was. He hated to lie, but he knew that there really was no way around it. No one was going to believe their real story.

"Right-o!" Lavi cheerily answered, swinging an arm around Allen's shoulders. Allen resisted the urge to facepalm. Their story sounded slightly fabricated. It didn't help that Lavi had wanted to put down 'street performer' on Allen's application under the Occupations heading.

"And you lived on 404 Grotto Swamp Lane in the Rainbow Forest of Skalandia?" the secretary asked, becoming ever more incredulous as she read off their applications. Allen shot a murderous glance at his friend, who'd taken it upon himself to come up with their backstory and identities. Lavi's smile froze in place as he realized his mistake. He'd put that down as a joke and had meant to erase it. Woops.

"Sorry, sorry! I, uh, was getting a little too creative, and I forgot to put in my real address. It's, uh…" Lavi pursed his lips as he tried to come up with something suitably boring, when Allen piped up, "Fifteen-oh-one, South Remington seven, Knightsbridge area, London." Lavi's eyebrow rose at the mention of the Order's address – or what would've been the Order's address if it had existed. The lady behind the desk made the change to their transcripts on the computer (a contraption that had taken Lavi practically days to understand – and, quite peevishly, only hours for Allen to crack).

"It says here that you wanted to be put on the juggling squad," the dry woman asked, looking straight at Allen, and Allen again turned a glare worthy of a serial killer on his friend. Lavi tried to keep a straight face.

"I, uh, used to juggle. I think that was a bit of a mistake on my friend's part. I don't do much juggling anymore," Allen confessed, rubbing his face. Lavi tried hard not to snicker as the woman sighed through her nose. He could understand her irritation. This office was absolutely dreary. The walls were concrete and some sort of strange, fuzzy dry board that could be moved around as needed, and the colors were almost monochrome. Cheap, happy slogans on morality and behavior plastered the walls in bright colors, and they only seemed to highlight just how boring and dull the office happened to be.

"Well, fine then. Oh, and your hair. School policy doesn't allow for solid color dyeing," the lady said, not even bothering to look up, and Allen cast a confused glance to Lavi, who shrugged. Suddenly realizing what she was talking about, Allen stated dejectedly, "This _is_ my normal hair color." The lady looked at him over her bifocals with a withering glance that could've brought a Level Four to its knees.

"Really?" she drawled from the side of her mouth, and Allen could feel his knees shake. How was it that the women in this era were so scary! Lavi coughed into fist politely, and he said, "Ma'am, that really is his hair color. He, uh, has a disorder that turns his hair completely white. There's no way to change it, and we don't bother to dye it." Sheesh, Lavi had a smooth tongue. Of course, that was _partly _the truth. Allen had once tried dying his hair, and the dye had washed out as soon as he'd taken a shower. It didn't matter what he did, his hair remained a solid white.

The lady was quiet for a minute, and she shrugged.

"My apologies, dear. It's not the weirdest thing I've come across," the lady sighed, and she continued typing.

"We did it! We're in!" Lavi exulted, and Allen laughed. The redhead had been depressed for the past few days, and this sudden success had definitely cheered him up. After the initial culture shock had worn away, the two had decided that this world wasn't so bad, as long as you got used to the multitude of ringing, beeping machines.

Lavi did a little jig down the front steps of the school, and Allen snickered, "Stop it! People are staring at you."

"They can stare all they want. Who _wouldn't _wanna look at this? Besides, it's not like I'm running around in nothing but my birthday suit," Lavi quipped back, hands on his hips. He skipped down the steps as fast as he could on his long legs, and Allen stuck his hands in his pockets, perfectly happy to watch his friend be, well, perfectly happy. If there was anything that Lavi loved, it was when a plan came to fruition. He'd spent a disproportionate amount of time creating their identities and backstories, pulling up references from the Internet (which they'd only discovered about two days ago) and going off what Cam told them of modern life so far. Despite the oddness of his first name, Lavi had decided to keep it, and Allen's name was still modern enough to pass without suspicion. They didn't have to worry about Kanda – he had decided that school was going to be a waste of his time.

The ensuing argument between Miles and Kanda could have made tornadoes look like a summer breeze. He'd stomped out of the apartment two days ago, and he hadn't come back yet. Though they all knew he was a big boy and could take care of himself, they were beginning to worry about what had happened to him. Incongruously, Allen probably worried the most (though, more for other people's welfare rather than Kanda's own, given his volatile personality) and Lavi the least. Bookman, of course, supported the bid for education, but he didn't bar Kanda's right to refuse it. To their knowledge, Bookman was the only one who was aware of Kanda's whereabouts. Considering the old man hadn't said anything else on the matter, the stubborn teenager was most likely in the safest possible hands, those being his own.

"You think Miles'll be back for dinner? I'm starved!" Lavi gushed. Allen rolled his eyes.

"Lavi, you're always starved," Allen noted, and Lavi scoffed.

"Says the living garbage bin," Lavi shot back, and Allen scratched his face in embarrassment. They were currently eating Miles out of house and home. They'd managed to completely clean out every cupboard in the tiny apartment, along with a good percentage of the fridge (another device that Allen kept in mind to take back with him when they found a way home). At the rate they were going, Miles was either going to have to take up another job, or the two black holes in her house were going to have to find their own employment. Bookman had supported the latter, and he was already looking through newspapers for apartment buildings and jobs.

The past few days had been a busy whirlwind of errands and the like, mostly running to the store for assorted snacks and getting job applications. The boys had to earn their keep, usually by doing chores. However, it was obvious money was getting tight. Miles' internship was coming to a close pretty quickly, and she had just enough time to study for exams before letting Cam, Lavi, and Allen do whatever it was that they did during the day. She'd already told them what she expected of the group, and that after she finally become a fully fledged police officer, she'd be making a little bit more in terms of income. Unfortunately, it obviously was not going to be enough to support nearly four other people.

"Speaking of garbage bin, has the sanitation company sent anything back?" Allen asked, cracking a small smile. Lavi made a face. They were putting in any and all applications, including trash man. Lavi was the only one old enough, besides Kanda, and it was obvious that Kanda was probably going to be vacating the premises pretty soon for greener (and quieter) pastures. Lavi had half a mind to burn the application and tell Bookman that it'd gotten lost in the mail or that they'd rejected it on basis of too little information. However, a job was a job…

"No, they haven't, and I hope it stays that way. You could still get a job doing handstands and hanging off of rooftops," Lavi retorted, and Allen winced. He'd had enough of that lifestyle. Though he'd enjoyed his days as a circus clown and acrobatics expert, he'd rather not go back to that. There were too many memories he'd revisit jumping back into the performing business. However, cheating at poker sounded even worse and, as they kept telling themselves, a job was a job.

"I might consider it if nothing else comes through. I'm not sure if anyone will hire me themselves given my age. There are these things called child labor laws here that only let people of a certain age work," Allen sighed resignedly, and Lavi raised both eyebrows.

"Really? I hadn't known about that. What's the legal working age, then?" Lavi asked, and Allen mused, "I think it's sixteen." Lavi laughed as he trotted down the sidewalk in his new shoes, and he noted, "The Order would be in so much legal crap right now, then. A good portion of the Exorcists are almost too young, not to mention all the errand boys." They walked on in silence past tall brick buildings with spray-painted facades done in colors of green and yellow and black, all of them in some indecipherable street language that neither of them could ever hope to understand. Suddenly, Allen asked, "Why do you think so many children have Innocence synching to them?" Lavi frowned. He'd wondered that himself time and time again. Small kids were playing the street, throwing a baseball. He watched it arc through the air as it accidentally rapped on a window, and a lady popped out, screaming obscenities as they raced away.

"I guess kids just have the right perspective. Besides, there aren't that many kids actually fighting for the Order. There was Timothy, and then there was you and Lenalee. I guess Kanda counts, if you take into account his biological age," Lavi mused.

"What about you? Don't you count?" Allen asked with a puzzled expression. Lavi shrugged.

"I'm more observer than fighter. I'm only supposed to interfere if my life is in immediate danger," Lavi sheepishly stated, rubbing the back of his neck. It was the middle of summer in this dimension, and it was blazing hot. In no time, Lavi was going to look like a very well cooked lobster. His fair skin didn't do well under the sun. Allen laughed, realizing just how times Lavi had broken that rule. He'd saved his life more than once. That definitely counted as interference.

"It's so strange. To walk down the street without looking over your shoulder," Lavi muttered quietly as several girls passed by, all of them chattering to one another like birds. He looked back, almost wistfully, and Allen noticed the expression on his face.

"You miss it. The fighting," Allen stated, and Lavi shoved his hands in his jean pockets as he stared at the sky overhead. The clouds were fluffy white, and there was just this feeling of tranquility. Lavi couldn't deny that it unnerved him.

"When you've lived with it for so long, you tend to get used to it. It feels wrong when it's gone," Lavi admitted. One of the greatest things about his culture shock had been the general lack of violence, at least openly. Their early encounter with crime had been a fluke. From what Lavi could see, most everyone seemed perfectly safe, though he did note that the seedier parts of town around Miles' apartment gave a distinct air of danger. Perhaps it was the fact Lavi hadn't quite tasted the distinct flavor of risk from this world. He was sure it was just lurking beneath the surface, waiting to burst like a cyst. The witches had shown them that.

"I find it odd, too. But not a bad sort of odd," Allen added, looking over at Lavi. They turned another corner, and they were met with a sudden drenching of cold as well as the smell of clovers, patchouli, and motor oil. Lavi immediately removed his hammer from its new spot on his belt, and Allen was quick to activate his arm. As of late, they had been relatively unmolested by the witches after the debacle in the mall. It seemed that they were backing off after realizing the actual prowess of the targets involved. The four had been waiting for some sort of retaliation.

A lone witch stood on the sidewalk while playing a mandolin. A large case was open at her feet, and the lull of the mandolin was like the plucking of puppet strings towards the pair's pockets, as if small fingers of suggestion were stroking their minds into relieving some of their spare coins. Recognizing the literal stench of magic, the two continued to be on guard as they walked past. The witch looked up at the two with knowing, black-lined eyes as she continued to play. Her case was full of bills and coins, almost completely filled to the brim. She smiled at Lavi, twitching an eyebrow at him. He gave no outward signs of having seen it.

Finally they were past, and the tension in the air eased.

"I hate it when that happens," Allen said, rubbing his black wrist as he disengaged his arm. He looked back over his shoulder, gray eyes tracking the witch who was strumming her spell. Allen knew there were probably dozens like her, and only a select few were sensitive enough to the world of energy and magic to truly understand what she was doing, which would ultimately be robbing people of what pocket change they had. Allen's sense of magic had grown exponentially from Cam's tutelage. Lavi already had a very, very basic education in a different sort of magic, and so he was used to picking apart these sorts of things.

"Tell me about it. And there's not a single thing we can do," Lavi muttered as he replaced his hammer. That was the second witch they'd encountered here in the seedier part of town in the past few days. They were more common than both Allen and Lavi had thought, but Cam assured that out of the entire city, there were probably only seven witches per thousand people. Farther south in Dallas, the witch population was significantly denser at nearly eighteen per thousand. Most of those witches were 'latent' – their powers had yet to actually show, and most likely they'd never realize them without being shown by another, 'awakened' witch.

They reached the apartment with plenty of time to spare. The sun was still fairly high in the sky, and they'd already had lunch. However, upon reaching the apartment, they noted that they smelled the familiar aroma of magic, that musty smell of ancient power layered between the stink of clay, bleach, and thyme. It looked like Cam was at work on something. They soon found out when they opened the door, and they found spray paint all over the walls. Allen almost tripped over his own feet as he stared at the odd symbols of stop signs and archaic lettering all over the walls and doors. What was worse, all of their stuff seemed to have disappeared.

"What in the world…?" Lavi muttered, and Cam, splattered almost completely in paint, stated, "Oh. You guys are home early. Dang it, I was hoping to paint over these before you came back." She stood next to Miles' door, a spray paint can in her hand. She shook it up, and she sprayed her sister's door with yellow and black stripes.

"What are you doing?" Allen asked incredulously as he headed towards the spot where the couch used to be. Bookman was obviously out – otherwise, this travesty would've never happened.

"I'm warding the apartment. I'm not very good at it, but Miles won't touch magic, not unless it's dire. I'm not sure I can convince her that this is dire enough, though. Some toughs tried to get in, and what's worse they had a witch with them. Did you guys notice anything funny on the stairways?" she asked nonchalantly as she shrugged off her paint-stained jacket. Lavi ran a hand through his hair, and he stuttered, "N-no, not at all." Cam smiled, showing even white teeth. The expression turned her round face simply impish.

"Good! I didn't know if I'd be able to explain the bent stair rails to Gertrude, so I tried fixing them," Cam stated. "The blood was a little harder to clean, though…" Allen walked over to a ward that was a red circle with a white line through it plastered to the front of Cam's bedroom door.

"How do these wards work?" Allen asked, tempted to wipe the paint. Cam suddenly shouted, "DON'T TOUCH!" Allen flung both hands in the air away from the impromptu painting. Cam sighed and stated, "I haven't programmed them yet, so they don't know which people are safe and which people aren't. I'm pretty crude at magical programming, so I'm going to need Gale's help, but at least I can paint over them before she gets home." Lavi suddenly tried to get into the bathroom, and he was thrown ten feet backwards into the kitchen. He managed to knock down everything on the table, covering himself in a multitude of cups, juices, books, and coffee.

"Lavi!" Allen shouted, and they both hurried over to the downed Exorcist. He sat up amid the wreckage and coughed, "Lazarus bite me, that was strong." His hair stood straight up, and his headband was askew. He looked slightly dazed, but otherwise he was fine. He pointed to the door as Allen helped him up, and he asked, "It does that _every _time?" Cam dusted him off with a chagrined look, and she nodded.

"Sorry. I hadn't meant to make it that forceful. It's a repellent ward, which means it flings people. To answer your question, Allen, it sucks the energy out of these lithium batteries I've spray painted that are around the apartment, and I program them afterwards to recognize people. They're like force fields, except… well, not," Cam explained. After getting Lavi looking fairly human, Cam started to paint over the wards with a paint roller and some primer. Allen and Lavi helped the best they could, but it eventually devolved into the two of them flinging paint at each other.

"Hey, quit it, you two! Just because there's nothing in the room doesn't mean hiding paint on the floor is easy!" Cam complained as Lavi held Allen's arms down with his knees and threatened him with a fully-loaded paint roller.

"Noooooo!" Allen moaned as he tried to squirm out from under the forty-pounds-heavier teenager.

"This is payback for Jakarta!" Lavi cackled, and he started to roll the paint on his face. Allen retaliated by getting an arm free and socking him in the stomach.

"Say, where's all the furniture, Cam?" Lavi grunted as he put a massive dab on Allen's forehead. Allen picked up another paintbrush, slapping Lavi in the face with it. A massive white swipe covered his astonished face as Cam answered, "I put it in an extra-dimensional zone that's analogous to the room. That took me longer to do than the actual wards themselves. Don't worry about it; the minute I open up the extra-dimensional zone, everything kinda just pops back into place. I have to use the spare generator to support the spell, though, and extra-dimensional zones are only little pockets of space- Hey! Don't get it on me, hahahaha!" Cam suddenly joined in on the paint war, both her and Allen ganging on up on Lavi as the older teenager found himself being rollered to death. Cam had cast another spell to keep the paint from hitting the floor, and so far the carpet had stayed relatively clean. They'd saved the front door for last, which was covered with what Cam called an 'inactive ward' that wouldn't turn on until she gave it some programs. She'd figured the other bedrooms and windows could do with a regular, autonomous ward.

"Come here, you little -!" Allen shouted as he grabbed the paint tray. Lavi, devilish as always, had used the 'force field' around the floor to completely splatter Allen's pants, and he was naughtily running towards the front door. Cam helped Allen chuck the paint tray, and Lavi ducked, expecting to hear a massive _thwack _as it hit the front door.

Instead, the front door opened, and there was a very distinct 'squish' noise as the paint hit someone square in the face. Lavi looked up from his half-crouch to stare into the face of a very paint-laden, obviously unhappy samurai whose entire head was covered in white primer.

"…Run," Lavi squeaked, and the three of them made for the bedrooms, screaming, with Kanda hot on their trail. Cam managed to unlock the ward on her bedroom and let Allen into her room, but Lavi was just a little slow. He smashed into the closed door, sparking the ward as it threw him back straight into the arms of his pursuer. Kanda looked like the poster child for a seriously pissed off serial killer who had a particular liking towards redheads. Lavi could almost feel the animosity and rage wafting off of him. He gave a small finger wave.

"Uh…hehehehehe, hey, Kanda-chan, imagine finding you in a place like – NOT THE FACE! NOT THE FACE!"

Allen and Cam pressed their ears to the door as they listened to Lavi plead for his vanity. Allen winced as he heard something crack and snap, and Cam muttered a low, appreciative, "Ouch." They both tried to keep from snickering as the sounds of exaggerated pain grew louder.

"AAAAAAH! That's not supposed to bend that way! Kanda, come on, it was an acci- YEEEEOOOOW!"

"WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?" The booming voice was most definitely feminine, and Allen and Cam froze.

Gale was home. This wasn't going to be good.

Reluctantly, the occupants of Cam's room slowly made their way into the living room. Lavi was sitting cross-legged on the floor with a distinct bump on his forehead, while Kanda loomed over him. Bookman had followed behind a gently steaming Miles. She had her arms crossed, and her foot was tapping against the mostly clean floor. Flecks of paint stuck to her slacks where the force field had deposited them, and her eyes were narrowed as she stared at them.

"Cam, go to your room. I'll finish the rest of the wards myself. I got the rest of the story from Sergeant Clance. Boys, stay here. We need to talk," Gale said, her tone icy. Cam slunk to her room in a cloud of teenage belligerence, and she muttered under her breath about being left out. Gale suddenly sighed through her nose, and she looked around the room. She was tempted to use magic for the rest of the job, but she knew that unless she was desperate, she shouldn't even bother. She toyed with a crucifix around her neck, something Lavi took rabid note of from his perch on the ground.

"My apologies. You'll have to make do with standing or sitting on the floor until Cam brings everything back from her little dimensional pocket. There've been some… developments," Gale stated. Bookman stepped around her, his face especially drawn. Lavi's eye flicked between the two of them, realizing that this was going to be a doozy. He motioned for Allen to sit down, and the younger boy followed. Kanda only crossed his arms and glowered, dripping paint on the floor. He'd cleaned off his face, but his hair was still matted with primer.

"Our situation has just been put into perspective," Bookman grumbled, taking the forefront. He threw a file on the floor, opened to reveal two pictures clipped to a report. Both pictures were stark contrasts from each other. One was a smiling girl of three with pigtails holding a rabbit. The other was the same little girl, very obviously dead from a slit throat, in a garbage bin with several dead animals. Allen touched the photographs, confused and disturbed.

"Daisy Hutton was found in a Dumpster yesterday afternoon by some local kids about five blocks down from where you four appeared from your little dimensional hop-over. That general area is also controlled by the Wrench Dogs, who're allied with my old coven, Ravenlight, at least for the moment. I've investigated other cases like this with my colleague, and they almost always have to do with summoning," Gale explained.

"The witches had obviously expended a tremendous amount of effort getting us – or their intended target - here. I am familiar with the style of magic these witches practice. The sacrifice of a child is a very serious matter, and whatever they meant to bring must have been big. So far, they've found another three children, from ages four to nine, in corresponding Dumpsters within the area," Bookman iterated, and Allen felt as if he'd been sucker punched. To bring them here, four people, all of them children, had had to die. That was the cost of breaking the dimensional barrier. Four little lives, needlessly snuffed, just to cross over…

"Bookman and I want to warn you three to be on your highest guard. Getting these children off the streets took a lot of effort, along with the other animals for the sacrifice. They are not afraid to kill children, and they most certainly are not afraid to kill you. I do think that the current head of the Ravenlight coven will try to keep you alive in order to use you as fuel for the next summoning, but there's no telling what a rogue witch will do for twenty grand a pop on all of you. I know we haven't had any activity besides that little break-in today, but you can't ever let your guard down," Gale said, her voice cracking at the mention of children. Lavi logged away the corresponding emotional response for later review. It wouldn't be hard for them to keep up a vigil, of course. They'd lived their entire lives looking over their shoulder. This would be no different.

"Cameron, come out and fix the living room. We're having take-out again," Gale sighed, signaling an ending to the meeting. Kanda immediately walked over to the bathroom, and Lavi shouted, "Kanda, KANDA WAIT-"

The samurai flew through the air and smashed into the table, breaking the already abused piece of furniture. Gale slapped her forehead as she shouted, "Cam, you're supposed to put up a program BEFORE you paint the wards, dope!"

"Woops! My bad!"

Kanda got up, face livid white, and he muttered, "Any more surprises you want to tell me about?" Lavi winced, and he shook his head. The redhead stood up, and Kanda abruptly pushed him over as he walked towards Cam's bedroom, probably to rail about her being an idiot. Lavi was used to such abuse, and he went with it. However, he noticed that Allen was still staring at the pictures with a morose look on his face.

"Hey, what's the matter?" Lavi asked, standing over Allen. Several pieces of furniture suddenly materialized in the room, and Lavi jumped. Allen didn't appear fazed, however.

"These kids had to die just to get us here. What will it take to get us _back?_" Allen asked, looking up at Lavi with a pained expression. Lavi bent over to pick up the file. It wasn't very large, only a few pages thick. Daisy's life had been short. Painfully so, in fact.

"I'm sure these guys can think of something that doesn't have to involve sacrificing kiddies to some higher power," Lavi muttered as he looked at the picture of the smiling child with her rabbit. He felt a tug at his heart, but habit squashed the feeling. This kid had been long dead. The most the parents could have hoped for was to find their child, dead or alive, either to give it a better life or give it a good funeral. The latter seemed to be only option right now.

"I just can't believe they'd kill children," Allen said as he sat down on the newly-materialized couch. He looked almost comical, completely covered in paint yet looking for all the world like a sad clown. Lavi studied the face in the photograph, and such a clear photograph it was. Looking at Bookman, Lavi did something he knew he shouldn't be doing. He memorized the girl's entire face, her smile, the color of her hair. He read the dossier, the small, inadequate biography, wishing he'd had more.

"It makes sense. They're a lot harder to track," Lavi murmured as he continued to store away the girl, her life, in his memory. Hopefully there, she could be immortalized, if just for a little while. Lavi had seen many, many little lives like this cut short. He'd been lucky to find a few that had complete stories like this one that he could store away, keep alive, hang on to.

Lavi set the folder down gently on the coffee table that had popped back into existence only moments ago. Sadly, he took up a seat next to Allen, and the white-haired Exorcist stated, "We have to stop them somehow. The witches. We can't just let them… let them _do _this-"

"Now, now, Allen, before you start a crusade, you need to think about this. We're in a completely different world right now. From what I've seen, vigilantism is not exactly favored. There's a lot more press on the police and the government than there is on the citizens. For now, there's nothing we can do but hope that Gale finds a way to send us back home," Lavi tried to reason, but Allen already had that look in his eye.

"I know, but… I have no idea what we're supposed to do about this," Allen sighed.

"We've been trying for years to figure out how to fight the witches, actually," Cam suddenly said, walking over. She looked mildly perturbed, mostly because of Kanda's less-than-appraising tirade. She ran a finger through her paint-thickened hair and said, "Gale has been trying to figure out ways to nullify magic for a while, and so far she's come up with nil. She decided to join up with the police department purely for the fact it would allow her access to information she otherwise wouldn't have been able to get. I've been fighting them the only way I know how – going and kicking the crap out of the first malevolent witch I can find. It's not hard to find them, either."

"And I keep telling you that doing that's going to get you killed!" Gale shouted from the kitchen. Cam smirked, and she muttered, "But I'm not dead yet, am I?" Lavi patted Allen's head, and he assured, "We'll get them back at some point. Hey, maybe we can be some sort of anti-witch squad or something! We're good at that sorta thing, you know?"

"Then quit talking about it, and actually do it," Kanda grumbled as he flopped on the couch and picked up the TV remote. He flicked through a couple of channels while Allen mumbled, "We would, except for the fact we're not pigheaded and actually think things through."

"More like none of you have the backbone to go out and get things done," Kanda retorted sharply. Allen spat back, "And you have room to say that, when you've been gone for nearly three days?"

"I haven't been sitting around waiting like you morons. I've been doing what I've been trained to do. I've cased the entire neighborhood out," Kanda growled, jerking a finger at Allen. The white-haired boy threw up his hands.

"Oh, very productive. Because we wouldn't have already figured out the layout of the entire neighborhood just by living here!"

"Hey, I know every hotspot for most every witch within a ten mile radius," Kanda challenged, and the room fell silent. Gale broke the silence by leaning against the kitchen counter and asking, "How could you possibly know that? You've been here a total of two weeks. It took me double that time to find out where all the major hotspots are." Kanda suddenly looked uncomfortable, sinking into the couch and glaring at the TV as he stabbed the remote button to another channel.

"Care to share?" Lavi asked coldly, and Kanda looked at the redhead out of the corner of his eye. Cam suddenly gasped, and everyone looked to her. Bookman muttered, "Great. What now?"

"You can see it, can't you? All this?" Cam breathed, twirling a finger in the air. Kanda didn't answer. Gale motioned for Cameron to come over, and Lavi jerked a finger towards the two to Allen. The alabaster-haired Exorcist slowly got up, always glaring at the Japanese Exorcist who was sullenly losing himself in his own mind as the TV ran.

"Alright, so if you've been so productive, what've you found?" Lavi asked. Kanda crossed his arms and propped up his feet on the table, not caring he was getting paint everywhere.

"They've been watching us. They have something monitoring the building, and I think they're just trying to get a feel for our routines. And there's word on the street that they're bringing in something big," Kanda told him tonelessly. "They're not playing any more. Apparently, you scared a little witch, and now she's gone crying home to Momma. There's a special price for you in particular. Not to mention they want you alive so they can have a little _fun _with you first." Lavi winced. He hadn't thought that his actions would bring around such serious repercussions. Screw Newton's law; this was not an equal reaction.

"What should we do, then, Mr. Inside Job?" Lavi asked in a joking tone, though it was very obvious he was being completely serious.

"We lay low. We wait," Kanda tersely answered, and Bookman suddenly interjected, "I agree. They can't try anything too dangerous, not yet. They're still gauging our strengths. It's a waiting game."

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Allen got himself a glass of water, keeping an ear out for whatever Gale and Cam were talking about near the fridge.

"He's got a basic sight range. Cam, he's a warlock," Cam stated excitedly, and Gale shushed her.

"Look, we don't know that. There are plenty of guys who've got Vision that can't tap into the _ergomund_. He could be one of them," Gale reasoned, but Cam pressed forward, "You don't understand, Gale. I looked into the _ergomund, _and the guy lights up like a Christmas tree. For some reason, he's got a massive store of energy, more than any of our batteries or crystals could contain. He practically _reeks _of potential magic use. We have to start tutoring him before he can't control it." Vision? Ergomund? Warlock? _Kanda? _They were trying to say that he was a male witch? Where did this come from? Allen realized that his cup was overflowing with water, and he frantically turned off the water as it spilled over his hand.

"Look, he cased out the neighborhood in two days. I can test just how good he is, but it took me nearly a week to follow all the trails and everything with my Vision. That sort of aptitude means that he's got some serious focus to keep his Vision going for longer than a couple of minutes at a time. Gale, you can still tap into the _ergomund _with your Vision, so why don't you-"

"No. That's too much of a temptation to start using it again. I'm not going to rely on it, Cam."

"Ugh, fine. Your loss. I'm serious, though. This guy's legit. He's just cranky as a woman on menopause." Allen snickered, and the two looked at him. Realizing he'd blown cover, he whistled as he walked away with his glass of water, their eyes boring holes into his back.

* * *

><p>"They think you're a warlock," Allen stated simply as the three stood on the fire escape.<p>

"What? They think Kanda's a –Ha! Maybe he should start wearing a cape and wave around a wand," Lavi joked, and Kanda shoved him. He gave his usual answer, 'tch', but he looked off over the neighborhood, not deigning to answer. Lavi and Allen suddenly fell quiet as they realized that they might've hit a chord.

"Are you… a warlock?" Lavi asked, and Kanda looked at them with a dead stare.

"No. I just… see things," Kanda admitted. "Half the time, I wonder if I'm just going nuts from staying around you two." Allen glared, but Kanda didn't seem to notice. He just looked out, his harsh face still pensive.

"What do you mean, see things?" Lavi asked, leaning against the railing. Allen was sitting on the ladder while Kanda had his back to the rail. The ground was nearly forty feet away, but they didn't care too much. None of them were very scared of heights.

"Lights. Shapes. Lines." Allen scoffed.

"Maybe you just need glasses," Allen quipped, and Kanda pulled Mugen out of its sheath about an inch in threat. Lavi got between them hurriedly, hoping to keep his current platform intact. It wouldn't do them any good to have a demolition derby on the roofs. There wasn't an Order here to foot the bill for any damages done.

"Come on, guys, let's not start this. We can't keep fighting with each other out here," Lavi stated seriously, and the two warring rivals narrowed their eyes at each other. Mugen slid back into its sheath, and Kanda went back to lazily leaning against the rusting rail.

"So you can see the magic realm? The _ergomund?_" Lavi asked, and Kanda flicked his gaze at Lavi uncertainly. Allen frowned as he asked, "You know what the _ergomund _is? I heard Cam and Gale talking about that as well."

"The _ergomund _is the world of free energy. There are different levels to it, from the people embedded layer to the spirit layer to the kinetics and potentials layer, but for the most part it's all about the energy that's floating around and being manipulated. Bookman has been explaining the witching world to me," Lavi explained. Kanda grumbled about useless information, and Lavi theatrically pretended to be wounded. Allen sighed to himself.

"That sounds awfully handy, whatever it is, Vision. It appears I no longer have the upper hand in this war," Allen snarked, and Lavi smiled. That was true. Allen's cursed eye was probably no good in the realm of witches. It was good for spotting Akuma, seeing the world beyond the pale, but otherwise…

However, it could see souls. That may be useful yet.

"Don't knock that eye of yours, Allen. You never know," Lavi assured, and Allen shrugged.

"So we're in a war," Allen realized, "with just ourselves and an entire race of witches." He ran a hand through his clean, white hair. It had taken ages to get all the paint out.

"Yep. It looks that way," Lavi sighed.

"Figures," Kanda muttered, throwing a rock down the stairwell, watching it as it went _clunk, clunk, clunk, _all the way to the bottom. They talked for several more minutes (or, more like, Allen and Lavi talked while Kanda stared at the city suspiciously, probably eyeing the _ergomund _as they spoke) before Allen called it a day, going back inside, and Kanda jumped down the stairwell a clear forty feet.

"Where do you think you're going?" Lavi hissed, hoping to keep the neighbors from hearing. Already, he'd been berated by woman with a chest so ample that Lavi couldn't believe it was real (and a few questions later he realized they weren't) about being so loud on the stairwell because he'd been singing. That lady had even chucked this odd, gun-like device at him with a long cord! He'd only just figured out it was something called a hair-dryer. They had so many odd, useful, but whimsical devices…

"Leaving," Kanda stated simply, and Lavi whisper-shouted, "I know that, but why?"

"I'm not like you, you moron. I can't just sit there in some dumb school where I don't know anything while I wait for someone to shoot me," Kanda retorted. Lavi opened his mouth, but then he shut it again. Kanda had a point. Though Lavi and Allen had a basic understanding of most everything, Kanda had absolutely no formal education. In fact, Kanda could just barely _read, _much less anything else that involved higher thinking. It wasn't that Kanda wasn't intelligent – it was that he'd never been taught. Starting an education now would probably be disastrous considering his personality.

"Well… fine. But come home every once in a while. We miss you," Lavi said. Kanda looked up at him with a quirked eyebrow. There was a moment of silence before Lavi finally said, "Okay, okay, _I _miss you, you fat lard. Now get out of here. Shoo. Go find some happier abode somewhere else without me. Oh, how will I ever survive!" Kanda rolled his eyes at Lavi's dramatic display of loss, and he began to walk down the alleyway as a lady started to scream at him from the window above. Kanda shook his head as he headed out into the night. He knew what he was doing.

Mostly.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** I've been doing a lot of writing lately! Having so much time at my grandma's has kicked off a bit of a writer's spree. That's much much better than the polar opposite, writer's block. Or worse, writer's maze. Or, as in my friend Olivia's case, writer's PB&J, but that's another thing entirely. What matters is that I got this chapter going! Right! Now if I can just get over my feeling of inadequacy...

Big thanks to toadstoolteaparty and karina001 for their reviews! I love what you've told me so far on the story. I loved the amount of information you gave me, karina. And the note about making you laugh is always helpful, toadstool!

However, my armies of followers and favoriteers are massively depleted! Quickly! We need more troops! And the Doctor wants YOU!

Now, as per usual, the discussion questions! _This chapter had a plethora of different events - what are your thoughts on them? What sort of emotional response is there to the current crisis? Can the prose be fixed to be more decisive or less descriptive? How in character are the canon characters? What made you laugh? How do you think the magic will affect the story? What elements of the story should take the forefront - action based story telling or a less urgent, more leisurely pace? What would be preferable - more on the reactions of the canon characters or on the search for their way home? Or should it be an equal mix of either? _

Well, that's all I have. I apologize for the un-beta-ed chapter - I decided to get this out while I have internet.

God bless you and happy reading!


	7. Do Warlocks Dream of Magic Sheep?

"So he left?" Miles sighed to herself, cupping her hands around a mug of hot water. She'd taken to drinking just plain, boiled water when the night grew late, possibly to stave off whatever cravings she had for tea or coffee. Lavi nodded.

"I'm sorry about that. Once he's got an idea in mind, there's no stopping him. He can hold his own, don't worry. That's not what I'm worried about. I just don't want him in trouble with law enforcement if he ever confronts someone and they use that against him. He doesn't understand law enforcement - literally," Lavi explained with a dark chuckle. Miles frowned, and she took a long drink of her water. She set the mug down carefully, as if it would shatter if she set it down any harder.

"Care to explain?" Lavi looked her straight in the eye. Now that Kanda had left, Allen was actually sharing a room with Cameron. He'd shown himself to be enough of a gentleman that it would pose no problems, and they'd gone to bed late. Bookman had turned in early, as was his wont, and Lavi and Gale had started to discuss their plans of action. Now, it was almost two in the morning. Kanda was long gone, and there was an entire night to burn with stories and ideas.

This little proposition posed a bit of a problem, though. It was _Kanda's _past, a highly sensitive subject that no one dared touch. Part of the reason was the fact the Order wanted the Second Exorcist project under wraps - after all, on paper it was just a bit of an embarrassment. A hundred strong team of scientists couldn't keep two boys from destroying the facility... Lavi sighed. However, these people were meant to help them, and they needed the full implications. Kanda, as he was, happened to still be slightly dangerous and maybe a little unstable, especially in this new environment. Kanda had never been designed to be a civilian. His entire purpose was to fight and to kill, something that Lavi didn't doubt the man wrestled with nearly every day of his life. If there was any way that Lavi could help the transition, he would. Releasing sensitive information was against his natural grain, but he slowly forced his way past his instinctual aversion.

"Kanda... was an experiment of the organization that I work for. He was meant to be a weapon of destruction that would wipe out the enemies we fight, demons. Technically, Kanda is only nine or ten years old. The only reason he acts so old is from lots of fighting, lots of running, lots of killing, and the memories he's got from his past life. I'll explain that in a minute. There are a lot of social concepts that he literally hasn't been able to grasp. I mean, think about it. What's there to get? Especially when your life is consumed with mission after mission..." Lavi began, leaning back in his chair, eyes focused on the table in front of him. He'd always held a certain amount of pity and sympathy for his begrudging friend. Privately, Lavi wondered if Kanda took on so many missions in order to _get away _from real life. There were some people who just couldn't handle it.

"Law enforcement is one of those concepts that he hasn't quite worked out. No one's bothered to ever teach him to _live _before. He's kind of... well, introverted," Lavi commented with a slight smirk. 'Introverted' was a rather weak word. Miles coughed a laugh, and she contemplated her mug. She tilted her head to the side, and her eyes suddenly lost some of their edge. She shrugged.

"I can understand that. I'll see what I can do. I've still got contacts in that little, dusty corner of the world. There are a lot of solo witches in this city who just want to go on living their lives without have to deal with the problems a coven brings in. I bet I can get one to watch him -" Lavi winced.

"Whoa, whoa, back up. You don't want to put a tail on him. Some days, I'm not sure if he's going to cut me, and he's my... comrade," Lavi stated, hesitating the last word, as he put up his hands for emphasis. "You want to do this discreetly. If he finds out someone's babysitting him, he'll blow an artery." Miles threw up her hands in exasperation.

"Fine, fine! Sheesh, does this guy have a complex. Alright, I can do that. And I'm going to need to, uh, assign a detail to you guys, too, while you're at school. Don't worry - you won't hardly ever know that she's even there, so don't think I'm having her accompany you to the bathroom every time you gotta take a leak or something. I just want to be cautious," Miles explained as she got up and put her now-empty mug in the sink. Lavi shrugged and leaned back in his chair, glancing out the window. He was more worried than he let on. What Miles had said about him - glowing like a Christmas tree - made him fret more than he cared to admit. He'd be drawing attention from miles around from every coven and solo witch with eyes to see.

"How dangerous is our opponent?" Lavi asked Miles quietly. Her answer was terse.

"Not very. She's clumsy. Never hurts to prepare." Lavi nodded. Suddenly, he leaned forwards against the table, staring at Gale's back, thinking of the tattoo just under the shirt.

"Why don't you practice magic any more, Gale?" Lavi asked, and she stopped. Her shoulders tensed for a moment, but then relaxed. Gale put her hands on the edge of the sink, and she looked down, eyes focusing on some point beyond the metal. She took a long breath.

"It's a long story."

"We've got all night."

"Yeah, well, you're not the one with work in the morning."

"Touche." With that Gale promptly went to her room, leaving Lavi to mull over this new conundrum. No trouble - he'd find out sooner or later. Nothing could hide from him, not for long.

* * *

><p>Gale placed a phone call.<p>

"Hey... I need a favor." There was a long silence.

"What do you want?"

"Look, all I need for you to do is watch a couple of kids for me, a white haired guy and a red haired guy. And no, this isn't police work. This is entirely personal. I know you're Favor's still active, too. Your little trinket's practically turning my room into a runway."

"Just another reason why my Favor trinkets are so wonderful. Of course when I gave you a Favor, I hadn't expected anything quite so... mundane."

"Trust me, this is the farthest thing from mundane. I don't want to give details over the phone. I'll have Cam send a WordCraft or something."

"Still shying away from the good ol' art of magic, Gale?"

"You know very well why I do."

"Tch, you bet. I was lucky I wasn't there. The WordCraft that was flying around at the time, sheesh... It was like you'd gone and declared babies an acceptable food source."

"Well... see, this might be linked to that incident. Or, we'll have to use some of the same methods from it for our particular problem."

"Are you serious? Man, you're right. Farthest thing from mundane as it gets. When do you want me to start?"

"As soon as possible. Are you up to it, or -"

"I've been stagnating, _chica. _It's no prob. I needed something to do, anyways. I guess this means buying make up again. Sheesh, you know how much of that stuff I've got to buy?"

"Hehe, yeah, I know. Being an _i__llusor _isn't easy, is it?"

"Freakin' expensive, if I'm not up to using a ton of the surrounding _ergoviron. _Well, it's early where I'm at, so I guess I'd better hop on over, huh? I can be there by tomorrow."

"Where are you, anyways?"

"Tokyo, man, is where it's at for an _illusor. _Plenty of lights, lots of fashion, every single style you can think of - you're talkin' _illusor _heaven."

"Sorry to pull you away from it. And you can get here by tomorrow? That's one strong _teletransitrist _you've got."

"Eh, she's paid well. Besides, she owes me quite a few Favors, too."

"Well, all right. Take care." The line clicked.

Gale placed her next call, wishing it wasn't so late. Her next contact wouldn't have her laptop open for Skype. She would've rather talked face to face.

"Hello?" A thick Irish brogue with sleepy overtones answered.

"Hey. Is your sister awake?"

"Hm, yeah, why?"

"I need to talk to her. There's something I want her to do."

"Och, couldn't ye have called at a normal time? Yer lucky she's a night owl as 'tis. Hold th'phone, I'll go and get her..."

A minute later, the line was picked up again.

"Alright, she's right next t'me. What do you want to ask?"

"There's a guy that I need her to watch for a little while. He's tall, Asian, long hair, got a sword, and he looks like a glowworm on the _ergomund._" She heard exactly what she was saying repeated, albeit in a thick Irish accent. There was a long pause.

"She says fine, but would you care to elaborate on the why?"

"He could be trouble to the neighboring witches, and I need him alive, that's all. Not to mention, there's a chance he's a warlock." Again, her words were repeated. Another long pause, and he answered back.

"She says that's okay. Any particular idea where he is?"

"No clue. But could you tell her to be discreet? It's kind of important that she not be too... visible about all this. He'll probably need a place to stay or something. He's kind of not legal. And it wouldn't hurt to drop a hint here and there about how to keep himself masked."

Again, the pause, and finally, "She says she can do it. She also says she's been up all night waitin' for yer call, so I'm guessin' she'll be lookin' for him pretty soon now."

"Oh, really? Huh, I didn't think she had that strong a futuresense... Well, that's fantastic. Can she really find him that fast?"

"You're talkin' about the best and fastest _visitransitrist _this side o' the pond, me lass. She could find a dust mote on a duck's behind from over a hundred miles away. I think yer friend'll be fine." Gale smiled sardonically. Caughney was always given to hyperbole, but his sister was just as good as he said. Though the thing about the dust mote was a little far-fetched...

"Alright. Well, as long as she's not too tired."

"No problem, lassie, just don't let yerself get into any trouble now." The line clicked. Gale sighed. She just had one more call to make.

This time, the line rung nearly ten times before a groggy voice answered.

"'Lo? Sergei Tonsty's residence."

"Uh... Hey, Serg. How you been?"

There was silence, and she knew he was going to hang up.

"Wait wait wait! Look, man, I'm serious, I need a huge, huge, _huge _favor..."

"Why should I even bother?"

"They'll help with your dimensional theory. That's why."

"That's what you said before, and look what happened. I've got freakin' mental problems because of you, and _he _never shuts up!" Gale winced.

"Serg... I just need this one thing."

There was more silence.

"What do you want?"

"Well, okay, it's a really long story..."

* * *

><p>Gale was not the only one placing calls to different sources. The Ravenlight coven was <em>not <em>happy. Already, two weeks had passed since their first attempt at nabbing the troublemakers, and all they had to show for it were hospital bills and frightened scouts. They had vastly underestimated these four, and luckily they'd stayed far away from the old man. In witching society, age almost always meant power. A witch didn't get old unless she had a good bit of bite to her, and that man had smelt like some serious magic.

Now, they had to figure out what they were going to do. Or, more accurately, _Iris _had to figure out what they were going to do. Their coven was like a body - her as the head, mainly the brains, and the others as the body, her hands and feet and eyes and ears. They needed direction from the head, or else they were as good as a vegetable in a hospital bed.

And so, Iris was pacing in her room, the nest calmly settled now that the early hours of the morning were beginning to come upon them. Witches need not be nocturnal, but Iris liked to keep an image. She sighed as she suddenly fell into a ratty armchair, staring into a full-length mirror at herself. Skinny, alabaster skin, dyed black hair, kohl-lined eyes - she was the epitome of the teenage witch of this era. Not at all like Gale and her 'upstanding' appearance. Then again, she moved around in other circles so much better, or rather she had. That was what had made her such a great power broker, in both senses of the word.

"What do you propose?" Giselle asked from across the room, sitting at a vanity. She was Iris's second in command, a mediocre _poteracruxus _who could at least hold her own in a fire fight and cast a rather strong Favor when the occasion inspired her. Iris got up again and began to pace once more, her steps going _one, two, three, turn, one two three... _She said, "We know that white haired boy and the red haired man are both fairly social, which could be turned to our advantage, but it looks like they have Vision of the _ergomund, _or at least a rough magical sense to them. That means witches, at least ours, are going to be no help. They can sniff them out right from the start. Capturing them is a no-no. They're too powerful as they are, and it looks like their weapons siphon magic, if Christie has anything to say."

Christie had a run in with the white-haired boy, Allen, nearly a week before. She'd confronted him, not knowing who he was (such a stupid girl, missing somebody so obvious). However, she had a good, strong Vision of the _ergomund, _so her word was mostly trustworthy, though she had a habit of exaggerating. It was a fairly new development, one that was extremely worrying. For years, Gale had been searching for such a weapon, something that could nullify the effects of witches on the ergomund, and now she had it.

But, more than likely, they had no idea what they had with them. Otherwise, Gale would've done something about studying them. As much as she was now a 'normal' citizen, she was still a purveyor and developer of magic. Her stance may be passive, but Iris planned on changing that. Though Giselle was a fair _poteracruxus, _she wanted Gale back. They had... unfinished business. Anything less than domination would be defeat.

Unfortunately, one of Gale's traits happened to be her resiliency.

"We need someone outside the coven. Yes... that would be the best course of action. We can stand to wait a bit. The Tri Clave won't hit us with all they've got, after all. We're still too small to be of any concern. The Wrench Dogs are the only ones who're really being targeted. We've got time," Iris mused to herself, and Giselle drew up a list of all the contacts they had, solo witches who either had a Favor from them or were willing to work for a price. There were plenty of mercenaries out there.

"What have we got in mind? Voodoo, gris-gris, traditional, freestyle, urban, nature-based, shamanistic, anything in particular?" Giselle asked. Iris thought for a moment, and she stated, "What we need is an _illusor _or a _visitransitrist. _Someone who can watch them without being detected. From what our girls said, the long-haired guy can see into the ergomund with twenty-twenty vision, which isn't good. A _visitransitrist _would be too obvious. So some sort of _illusor _would be best." Suddenly, Giselle was struck by an idea.

"Voodoo practitioners have some _illusor _ability, especially if they've got a body stashed away they can use. Their magic is easier concealed, especially because it's masked by a normal body rather than the witch herself," Giselle suggested, and Iris cocked her head to the side as she walked over to the window, watching the city. This was the time of night when real darkness settled on the city. Cars were far and few, and the only glow came from the sodium lights with their creepy orange illumination.

"Voodoo might work. But, better yet, we should take several witches, the best soloists at masking that we can afford to pull Favors from. Have we got any?" Giselle scanned the list, and she nodded.

"A few. Did you have any in mind?" Iris smiled in an appropriately predatory fashion.

"Yes, actually. Be a dear and call Ms. Marionette."

* * *

><p>Kanda had wandered the various back alleys for hours. He had yet to find his original hide out, and it wouldn't be long before the first light of false dawn would appear from the sky. He sighed to himself, feeling uncomfortable and sore. His sweatshirt was only so thick, not at all like his uniform coat, and the sleeves only came down to his elbows, cut off at a ragged, hemmed edge. He'd opted for jeans, considering their durability, and he only had his Order boots, so the match was slightly incongruous. He hiked his bag higher on his shoulder. Before leaving the apartment, he'd stashed a duffle bag full of his things. It wasn't very heavy - there were only a few changes of clothes, toiletries, and whatever other items he'd had with him before the sudden dimension jump.<p>

He looked up at the abandoned building, and he drew a deep breath. It was fairly well protected, easily fortified, a good place to stay. On more than one occasion, he'd had to hide out in abandoned buildings, shelled out apartments, and the like. Hotels weren't magical, after all, and they didn't always stay standing whenever he was on mission. He wasn't used to an urban landscape, though. Still, he could adapt, couldn't he?

He headed into the building with a slight feeling of trepidation. No matter what, he would always think that Akuma were creeping around the corners, waiting to ambush him in the dark. Luckily, Kanda's night vision was pretty good, and the light of the street lamps were the only illumination. Kanda began to climb the rickety stairs, testing each step carefully. Though they were made of concrete and metal, it never hurt to check. He reached the third floor, and he opened the door. This one had been the most free of debris and squatters, and the apartment at the very end of the hall hadn't been _too _run down, though it would be a long time before Kanda would be able to get the shower up and running. For now, he was just going to have to deal with being stinky and sweaty in between jaunts to Officer Whatsherface's postage stamp of a flat.

His thoughts were so occupied with the problems of the apartment that he almost didn't notice the person _sitting in the middle _of the living room as he walked in. He stared at the intruder for a moment before muttering a curse under his breath and drawing his sword.

The girl stood up and waved her hands at him in a 'don't shoot!' movement. Kanda already had Mugen pointed at her throat, but oddly enough he didn't see the usual spark of panic that usually lit up people's eyes when they find themselves pitted against the steel of his blade. She slowly put her hand down, and he realized she'd been eating a cup of re-hydrated noodles. He followed every movement she made with his sword, and she carefully picked up a white board and a marker. She held each up separately in each hand. Kanda only blinked, studying her in the half-light of the sodium light going through the blinds.

She was an average height with extremely curly red hair. Her face and arms were heavily freckled, and her eyes were an odd shade of gray, seeming to kaleidoscope between different shades with every movement she made. She had an upturned nose, giving her the appearance of a pixie or a mischievous sprite. She started to scribble on the whiteboard, almost nonchalantly if it weren't for her speed, and she suddenly held up a sign.

Kanda looked sheepish as he very slowly read the sign. Honestly, Kanda wasn't much of a reader. It didn't help that English was a second language, his first actually being Chinese (or was it that Chinese was his second language, and Japanese his first?). He finally managed to read the entire message.

'Not a danger. Wanna help. You a warlock? -Ashling' Kanda stared at the woman, noting her age. She couldn't be older than he was. Still, women were hard to judge in age, but her stance was that of someone young. He lowered the sword, and he said, "Sorry, but I can't read too well." Ashling blinked for a moment before suddenly scribbling furiously on her whiteboard.

'Sorry. Deaf. Can't talk. Making this short.' Kanda scoffed, and he shoved his sword back into his sheath.

"I don't need your help. Get out of here," Kanda stated. Ashling frowned, and she crossed her arms, plopping herself back down on the ground. Defiantly, she stared at him, and Kanda raised a single eyebrow.

"I will forcefully remove you if you don't get out of here," Kanda stated slowly, and Ashling started scribbling again.

'Not leaving til I help you.' Kanda nearly threw his bag down on top of her. He wasn't against trying to force someone out of his space, but... well, she was deaf. For some reason, that didn't feel fair. Obviously, she was a witch as well, or at least aware of magic, so maybe that nullified her status as disabled. Of course, if she was a witch, why didn't she just use magic so she could hear? Unless, of course, magic wasn't _that _sophisticated, but... He realized he was overthinking things. He suddenly lifted the girl off the ground, and she started to kick and punch. He winced as an elbow connected with his ear.

"Calm down already, sheesh, you wanna send us down the stairs?" Kanda growled out after cursing as she continued to squirm. Suddenly, she calmed down, and for a moment he felt relief. And then, just before he could get them through the door to the stairwell, the whiteboard was stuffed in his face.

'Witches come for you. You glow in the dark. Can mask you. Let me help!' Kanda frowned. He hadn't thought about that, honestly. He knew that he could see into the _ergomund, _and obviously other witches could too, but he hadn't known he was so visible. He had checked periodically into the _ergomund _as well as he could manage, and he hadn't detected anyone, but to know that others could mask their 'signature' was worrying. He set the girl down on the floor, and she looked up at him resolutely. She started scribbling again, blocking the stairwell, and she held it up.

'Can only mask you with me. Promise not to harm. Make Vow if necessary. Please.' Kanda narrowed his eyes. So far, she hadn't posed a threat, but Kanda honestly didn't know if he could trust her. Suddenly, Ashling erased and scribbled again.

'Get my noodles please, at least? Didn't eat at home.' Kanda rolled his eyes, and he stood aside to let her through, but she didn't move. She gave him an incredulous look, and she waved her arms in the direction of the apartment. Obviously, she didn't want to let him leave, but she wanted her noodles at the same time.

"You have legs. Go get it yourself if you want it so bad," Kanda stated with a brutal stare. She gave it right back to him, and she stood up, crossing her arms, and she vigorously shook her head. She pointed past him, and Kanda held his stance. Was he seriously having an argument over noodles with a deaf witch?

Suddenly, his vision slipped into the _ergomund, _and it was so strong that he was nearly knocked off his feet. The entire apartment was lit up with lines from the metal wires, and the lights outside seemed to permeate clouds of energy. And the girl in front of him seemed to radiate her own energy, every single line of nervous system shining like a live wire, as well as other lattices of energies running through and around her, coloring her as a witch with layer upon layer of ward wrapped around her like a cage made of light. He could feel other energies, just outside their building, so many of them, most from cars, cell phones, people, and... and just beyond that, there was another layer, a layer that held massive things that were just beyond reach. And Kanda knew that if he looked too deep into that layer, the binding fabric underneath everything, he was going to lose it.

Just as abruptly as he'd gone in, he was yanked back out by an external power, something so strong as to pull his vision and cover it like a bag over the head of a frightened ostrich. Kanda took a deep, gasping breath, a deep diver just breaking the surface. He shivered, more sapped than he'd ever been trying to look into the _ergomund. _Two hands were placed against his temples, and it took his normal vision a while to focus in the dark. The deaf girl had her fingers to his temples, rubbing them gently as a strong, almost magnetic magic pulsed out of them.

_I'm sorry for being so abrupt and touching you, but if you'd looked any longer, you might've left your head for a little while, _a small, mental voice with a thick accent breathed into his mind. He pulled away from the girl, and he felt as if a rubber band had snapped between them. The comforting, pushing sensation against his head was gone, and he was left with a fairly mild headache. She crossed her arms, lifting a single eyebrow. She didn't need to write what she was thinking.

"Alright. So maybe I need a little help," Kanda admitted, narrowing his eyes. The girl's face split into a wide smile, and she picked up her whiteboard and marker. She scribbled again.

'Good. I can help you control it. Gotta let me first. Come to my place. Trust me.' Kanda gritted his teeth. Huh, _trust _her. Yes, _that _was going to happen. Still, it didn't look like he had much choice. This had been his first encounter with that second layer of the _ergomund. _He'd sensed it, in a vague sort of way, and he'd avoided it, but it looked as if there was no choice now. All of this had happened so fast... At the least the girl would have a shower where she lived.

Well, he hoped. She didn't look much better than him. She didn't look homeless, either, though, so that was a plus. He grabbed his things as Ashling grabbed her noodles, and they made their way downstairs.

"What, you don't have a car?" Kanda muttered, and it took him a moment to realize she literally couldn't hear him when she didn't answer. Instead, he just followed. Eventually, he realized why he felt so at ease. She wasn't trying to talk to him (or, rather, scribble). She was obviously a person of few words by nature, and yet she was so expressive that it was almost comical. It was an odd combination. He shoved his hands in his pockets, trailing behind her at a loping pace.

After thirty minutes of walking, they came to a large apartment complex with a garage. She took out a ring of keys, and she unlocked the door next to the garage the led out to the lot. She playfully put a finger to her lips, signalling quiet, and Kanda rolled his eyes. Definitely theatrical, but thankfully silent. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. He rolled his shoulders as he walked into the garage, which was now lit by a line of these bright, white lights in tubes that he'd never seen before. There were all sorts of unidentifiable metal parts, along with the gutted remains of what he thought was a car. There were so many different tools there, he couldn't make any sense of them, besides the drill and the wrenches. He managed to keep his questions to himself.

The girl led him to a different room beyond the garage which led to a stairwell. She beckoned him, and they began to climb up the stairs. He still wasn't used to these strange, stone stairs that were completely smooth. She turned down a hall, and she walked into one of the apartments in the corridor. She motioned him along as he stood in the doorway of the corridor hesitantly. He sighed through his nose. _I'm following a woman I met in an abandoned apartment who was apparently waiting for me while eating re-hydrated noodles from a weird, crunchy plastic cup. This makes all the sense in the world._

He walked into the apartment, and he was immediately met with the strong smell of metal shavings and the odor of magic. It was stiff here, so potent that Kanda almost stepped back out the door. However, it wasn't a bad smell. In fact, it was almost pleasant, this smell of peat, ozone, and metal dust. He sniffed surreptitiously, and Ashling turned on the light. She gestured to the couch and the bathroom, and Kanda could guess what she'd meant. He dumped his duffle bag on the couch, and he stood there uncertainly, wondering what exactly he was supposed to know. At least in Miles' apartment, he'd had a good idea of what he wanted to do. Here, all he could do was sleep in an unfamiliar person's apartment with absolutely no back up.

Wait, what was he thinking?! He'd done this more times than he could count! She was a magic user, yeah, but it was obvious she meant no harm. If she _did _then he'd just chop her to pieces before she had time to finish a spell. Of course, he felt oddly vulnerable, perhaps due to the presence of the single female in the apartment, but he decided that it was no problem. She set down the white board on the counter, and she walked over to him. Kanda looked up in surprise, and Ashling gestured to the kitchen. She tilted her head to the side with a slight lift to the eyebrows. He shook his head silently, sitting on the couch. He'd already taken a shower, so he didn't need that either. Thankfully, she left him in silence.

Kanda watched her go into her room, and he crossed his arms as he thought about this. What about was he going to do now? His idea had been to scout around, to look for threats, to... to... find a way home. Kanda realized that he didn't have much of a plan. He'd hoped that once he'd gotten out, he might have a better idea. Now, he realized that was a stupid idea. His instincts didn't work here. His world of black and white didn't operate the same. There weren't neat categories for every person. More than that, he was dealing with _people. _That wasn't his forte.

But he had to have a plan. He couldn't just _not _have some idea of what he was going to do. Perhaps it'd just be best to take small steps. After all, he'd just done a runaround of the surrounding area, seen all the witches and their usual haunts. He needed to get control of this... this Vision anyways. He sighed to himself. As he thought about these things, he started to drift off. He didn't even realize his eyes had closed. _  
><em>

And his dreams were full of lights and glow-in-the-dark sheep.

* * *

><p>"Yes?" A languid figure in a large chair sat in the dark, looking out on a brightly lit city that was just beginning to wake up. The light of the city dimly lit the sky above, smog providing a canvas for the neon brush below. A young lady, an intern really, had hesitantly entered the room with a phone in hand. She'd hardly stepped two paces before the figure in the chair had spoken. The voice was androgynous, and the intern felt a seed of unease bury itself in her. She'd never actually spoken to the head before. Always, she received instructions and the like from managers and go-betweens.<p>

"Uh... Ma'am, someone called. A Ms. Canner has asked for you specifically." A hand appeared as a mere shadow against the glowing backdrop of the city. The fingers curled in a beckoning gesture, and the intern scurried to hand over the phone. The intern stood off by herself, trying to look uninterested in the ensuing conversation.

"You realize that it's nearly four in the morning." The voice was nearly audible, but it was too low for her to make out actual words. Whatever it was, the head laughed, a throaty chuckle.

"You know me too well. What do I have to owe this honor? ... Of course it's an honor. Always happy to help another covenmate. What did you have in mind? Financial, pharmaceutical, transport, technology, perso - Oh, so it is personal, is it? Lemme guess, our friend is acting up again, am I right?" Another pause, this one longer as the person on the other end talked for a lengthy amount of time. The intern shifted nervously. She was awfully tired. It _was _four in the morning. She'd stayed overnight to do some extra work.

The head suddenly whistled low. "That's a hefty problem you've managed to create. ... Oh, don't give me that, you _did _create it, you absolute _twit_. Don't try to deny it. If it was my city, I would've killed you by now and fixed it myself. You're lucky that Quartzhall hasn't slaughtered you for being such an idiotic, feeble-minded, impotent little spit of a_ witch_. But don't worry. I guessI can clean up your little _spat_." The tone that the head was using could've peeled paint, blown bulbs, and fried nearby insects. The intern herself felt like crying. Something deep within her, something primal and instinctive, had been stroked into waking, and the feeling nearly sent her to her knees. She could only imagine how the receiver could be taking it. Just standing there made her feel like her legs were water.

"There is the manner of my fee. ... Yes, I'm listening. Let's see... You have one with long hair? And one with red hair? Alright, what else? White hair? No, no, I think that's unsettling - it's something to do with age and all that. ... I like tall and slim. You did say the red haired one has an eye patch? Hm, that's a bit of a problem, but I can live with it. Long hair is troublesome. Give me the red haired one. ... Trust me, if I do get him, he won't be dead. Even if he was, I can still work with that. I have ways. ... Now, now, honey, you know _exactly _what I'll do with him. Don't worry, I'll hand him back over when I'm through. I may ask to keep the shell, though, if there's anything left afterwards." Another minute or so, a heated, whiny argument ensuing.

"Fine, fine. I'll be there within the hour. I know a few good _visitransitrists. _My _dearest _apologies, my dear, but I don't trust your handiwork. I have heard word that your current _poteracruxus _isn't worth the gum off the bottom of my boot. I'd hate to be translated over Chicago on accident. Yes... yes yes, just hang up already." With that, the line clicked shut, and the intern quickly took the phone as it was passed off to her. In a whirl, the head of the organization went past her in the dark, and the intern felt a waft of arctic cold. In the light of the hall, the figure was outlined, but oddly not a single detail was visible, not even a crinkle of the clothes.

"Book Natasha for a quick translation, as quick as you can bother to make it. She'll be in my Rolodex under _visitransitrist._"

"Uh... of course."

"Oh, and Chrissie? Is that your name? Ah, yes, Chrissie. I need it within the hour. Don't keep me waiting." The intern was so paralyzed, she nearly stopped breathing. Finally, finding her voice, she gasped, "Yes, yes, I will, certainly, Miss, uh, Missus, um, uh, Mister, I mean, uh..." The head suddenly turned, eyes the only things showing beyond the thick darkness of what the intern now realized was a coat, the collar turned upwards to hide the rest of the face.

"Don't worry about it. Trust me on that."

* * *

><p>Ashling Smithson woke up to the sounds of a person speaking. It was not so much she could hear the person - after all, she was deaf as a post - that she could feel the words, sense the meaning, almost taste the subconscious thoughts through which they'd swum in order to escape the lips of their speaker. Ashling was gifted in seeing the dreams of people; though it wasn't her emphasis with her magical category, it was just a little something she took on every now and again. She herself had always had vivid dreams, and she loved to taste the dreams of other people, to hear through their minds. Through the strange magic of electromagnetics, neurochemicals, and a little bit of help from a light socket, she could submerse herself into those nightly wanderings.<p>

And so, she got out of bed, wondering whose dreams were so loud that they could possibly have woken her up.

She scratched her head, noting for what would definitely not be the last time how odd it was that she could do so and not hear the nails scratch the skin. Her eyes wandered towards the door of her apartment, trying to tag down the dream. It had lulled now; sometimes dreams did that. They entered shifts, and the weave would unravel ever so slightly, usually just around the verge of wakening. Perhaps the dream had burst from down the hall, drifting from one of her five brothers. All of them were fairly strong dreamers, spinning subconscious yarns that would've put the best bards of Ireland to shame. She was about to open the door when the dream picked up again, and she nearly had to lean on the door it was so strong.

She looked over her shoulder, knowing from where that brute strength must be coming. She'd literally woven entire enchantments in order to keep her brothers' dreams from affecting her, seeing as they couldn't mask their mental and energetic output as a witch could. There was only one person in the complex with dreams and raw ability that could possibly have woken her from a dead sleep, and he happened to be crashed on her couch. Ashling wandered across the old carpet to the couch, looking in on the sleeper.

Long hair was snarled and in loops around his head. A strong brow over a long, aquiline nose, set between tightly shut eyes. He cut a bold, harsh figure. Even now, he still looked fierce and uninviting asleep, and he was muttering almost coherently. Despite the fact she was nearing him, the dream remained the same 'volume'. It was a uniform sort of casting out, and a good _somneria _would've been able to merely decipher just the surrounding area in order to intercept the dream. However, Ashling moonlighted her dream-tasting, and so she needed actual contact. Her curiosity got the better of her as she rounded the couch, and she nearly put a hand out to touch him, just this once -

"Alma?" The voice startled her. It had been so boldly stated, so terribly sad, almost as if a child were calling in the dark for someone familiar. She blinked, her hand wavering over his brow. She frowned, realizing what she was doing. This wasn't right. These were _his _dreams. They were not hers to intrude on. These were obviously very, very personal. Some dreams were like that. After all, if he woke up it would end badly. She had no doubt of that. His hand had never left his sword, not even in sleep.

With that, the deaf woman withdrew to her room, blinking as she felt the dream crescendo. And, in that sudden burst, the dream seemed to break from its confines, hitting her with full force as the world around her shifted into that man's dream world. Bright white curtains, everywhere, with gold light shimmering from no particular source, and midst these trappings... a boy no older than twelve hiding behind a curtain with a playful smile, dark haired and dark eyed with a scar over his nose and a light in his face, blood splattered over all the curtains around him. And, just as soon as it had come, it had gone.

Ashling stood against her door, using it for support. She'd never encountered a person with a dream so vivid. Strong, yes - her brother Caughney's dreams were so loud, she'd had to ward his entire room, but to be so vivid and defined as to break into her mind, become visible in the _ergomund _that lay just beyond sight - that took a _lot _of power. She took a deep breath, trying to scrub the plethora of emotions the dream had both invoked and pushed on her. Such... such joy mingled with such terror. She opened her door a crack, looking out to the individual sleeping on her sofa.

Teaching him was going to be interesting.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Hello, sawatdee kha, aloha, shalom! I am still, indeed, alive, and I'm still writing this story. I apologize for the length - I just hope that it's interesting enough to make up for the obscene length of the chapter. I didn't want to divide it, because everything in the chapter is supposed to tie back into each other. School's about to start, and I hope all of you good people are ready! I certainly am not, but of course, what am I doing? Writing fanfiction, so I guess I'm not a very good role model...

A big, big thank you to karina001 for her very epic review. I love the things she's brought up in her review, mainly because it's things I haven't considered myself, and I see what you mean. Thank you for pointing it out, or else I would've completely missed it. Also, big thanks to toadstoolteaparty for putting in their input towards the last chapter. It's always nice to be supported one way or another.

Also, I love that I now have two new subscribers. Everyone, give a hand to LadySqueak and fading ink!

I regret to inform the populace (at least, of this story) that there are no new favoriteers to join your ranks. I apologize for the inconvenience.

And for the discussion questions! _How was the style of the second section of the story that was largely dialogue? Was this an interesting writing device? Or was it annoying? What do you make of the mysterious figure from the fourth section? Kanda's dreams are spilling out - how do you think this will affect those witches around him or his current predicament of staying hidden? What do you make of Ashling, the deaf witch? How well are the characters characterized? Who, so far, is your favorite OC? Who is your favorite canon character? What emotions are invoked during this chapter; hope, fear, worry, excitement, shock, surprise? What characters do you wish you could see more of (canon and OC)? _

You know the drill; God bless you, and happy reading!


	8. Fahrenheit 1700

Lavi went for his morning run as per usual. He'd started, obviously, while he was in the Order, and he'd meant to get right back on track. After all, it was never a bad idea to stay in shape.

Of course, most morning runs don't include jumping over six foot wide gaps between buildings.

"Lavi!" The redheaded teen looked down in an alley to find Allen running along the ground, keeping an easy pace with him. Lavi smirked, wondering if this were some sort of challenge. After all, Cameron had probably tattled to Gale that he was currently roof-hopping. The police intern had given him a withering glare as she'd left, and he'd smiled sweetly until she'd gone. In fact, she'd been dressed _rather _nicely, and he had had a hard time keeping his eyes on her face. His memory may not serve him correctly, but he might've wolf-whistled. That may have been why she'd given him the glare...

"LAVI!" The redhead was pulled back into reality after he came to the realization that he was thinking (and drooling) about Gale's hemline and the legs that followed. Sheesh, he had to quit doing that! Still, it was hard, especially in this era. The hemlines were higher, the necklines were lower, and the girls were bolder. He wasn't used to it, but that didn't mean he couldn't _enjoy _it. After all, he had to keep his hopes up _somehow. _Being so far from home was really becoming a drag.

He couldn't deny the fact that he was steadily sinking into a sort of depression. Still, he'd buried the homesickness. He wasn't of any use being a moper.

"Hey, Allen! How are you this fine morning?" Lavi called down as he suddenly changed direction. Allen scrambled down an alleyway, dodging a man taking out the trash. He was verbally accosted as he tried to answer back, "Cameron said that people don't take kindly to roof-hopping teenagers! Witches like high places, too, so you'd better be careful!" Lavi ducked underneath something that looked like a very dead, very spindly metal tree sticking out of a silver box on the tops of the apartments, along with those weird dishes just next to them. This was the fifth one! What were those things even for?

"Aaaaah, don't worry, Allen-chan! I'll be perfectly fine - WHOA!" Lavi nearly tripped and fell down another alley, narrowly hitting the ledge of the next apartment by a hair. He really had to keep his focus up. If he wasn't careful, he was going to end up in the trash! Luckily, there seemed to be plenty of it, way more than seemed necessary for such an advanced society... Or perhaps _because _it was an advanced society.

"That's not what I'm worried about! Besides, I was only the messenger! I wanted to ask if I could join you!" Allen shouted back with a mischievous tone. Lavi pretended to gasp (at least, as well as he could while running) and responded, "Allen! How could you be so scandalous! Disobeying a direct order from Cam-chan!" Allen laughed. Cam was Allen's 'mentor' to this world, and she got quite naggy when Allen disregarded her warnings.

"I'll take that as a yes!" Allen shouted back, and he bounded up a fire escape. Soon, Lavi and Allen were falling in step with each other. They huffed and puffed, running at the same pace over various buildings, people glancing up in surprise as the boys vaulted over the alleys. Lavi laughed as he ran past a girl who was suntanning on her roof wearing this in_credibly_ skimpy outfit (not much more than a bra and underwear in bright yellow!) in the early light. He winked at her - and promptly fell over the end of the building. He had all of a tenth second to comprehend that he was headed straight for the ground. A comical look of disbelief crossed his face as Allen skidded to a stop and watched in horror. A cloud of trash suddenly exploded into the air as a dumpsterload of rubbish broke Lavi's fall.

"Euuuuugh! Look at this!" Lavi lamented, dragging himself out of the weird, stringy pieces of the bags that held the trash. He picked off pieces of food from his hair, grimacing. Allen waved to the girl apologetically as he climbed down to the alley by the fire escape.

"Are you alright?"

"No, I'm not alright! I've got a banana all over my new shirt! And this looks like baby throw-up - EUGH. I don't want to know. Man, it'll take forever to wash this out! Thank goodness Gale's got those automatic washer things. Why didn't the Science Department come up with those themselves? Sheesh."

Allen sighed with a slight smile, realizing that Lavi was more than alright. With the way he was going on, you would've thought he'd bought everything at a designer's or had it hand tailored, rather than bought it off a rack (which was a concept Allen was still dealing with and failing). After removing all offending pieces of trash, Lavi sighed.

"Okay. Now, what do we do? I'm not walking around like this," Lavi complained, and Allen resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"Lavi, you're _fine. _Besides, no one knows us. It's not like you can embarrass yourself in front of, say, Lenalee or Reever." Allen started walking out of the alley, hoping he was going in the right direction. After all, his sense of direction was not the best, and being attacked by more witches and gang members was not exactly on his agenda for the day. He was sure to keep an eye out for both. In a way, this was worse than looking for Akuma. These were actually _humans _- impervious to his eye, and definitely not stacked in his favor. He'd never thought he'd think something like that, but desperate times call for desperate musings...

"Yeah, but what if I see some cute girl? And she sees _this?" _For emphasis, he pulled his shirt, pointing to a large stain where what they _thought _a rotten potato had smeared the cotton. The white-haired teenager pushed Lavi away as the redhead started to shove the offended piece of stained shirt in his face, ordering, "Look at that! _Look _at that! Lookit!"

"Lavi!" Allen laughed, trying to get away. Lavi was practically trying to smother him, and Allen had to resort to running up the fire escape back to the rooftops. Lavi gave chase, laughing all the way, when he suddenly smashed into Allen on the roof when the kid stopped running. Lavi nearly bowled him over, and Allen protested, "Lavi, watch it! Shhhhh! It's Kanda!"

"Kanda? Where!" Lavi stage-whispered. The wind was suddenly picking up, and the sun was already baking the city. Allen scooted near the end of the apartment roof, pointing over the low wall that enclosed the roof to keep people from falling off to the empty lot below. Both peered over conspiratorially, only their noses and eyes showing.

"Huh, so it is him. And he's got a girl with him! Hey... she's kinda cute..."

"Lavi! Get your mind out of the gutter. All you've been talking about these days are the girls. It's not gentlemanly."

"What? There are so many of them! And all of them are adorable. Well, from a distance, anyways."

The two of them watched Kanda and the girl he had with him walk out towards the middle of the makeshift courtyard, noting that she didn't speak at all to him, only held up a whiteboard now and again after scribbling on it. The two narrowed their eyes as Kanda nodded, saying something in tones too low for them to hear.

"How long do you think it'll be before he figures out we're spying on him?" Lavi asked quietly. Suddenly, Kanda looked in their direction with suspicious eyes, and the two ducked behind the wall. Even from their place of observation, they could feel Kanda's withering glare. Lavi shook as he thought of the myriad of ways that he could be dismembered or otherwise incapacitated. Allen was calmer, but nevertheless, thinking of ways to block Kanda should he try and oust them. Allen wondered if he could use his eye to see him - after all, it saw souls, so technically he could see right through the brick straight to the foreign soul buried within Kanda's flesh.

"He'd turn me into one of those slushies... no, worse than a slushie. I'd be a puddle. He'll turn me into a puddle," Lavi lamented as he let his mind stray. "A measly, little puddle with red hair..."

"Lavi, don't fret so much. He wouldn't dare," Allen muttered as he risked another glance over the wall. He tried to willfully activate his eye, but he couldn't seem to get a good grasp on it. Normally, it turned on only in the presence of Akuma - it was an Akuma borne curse, after all. Allen sighed as he merely observed the two. Lavi popped up, finally summoning the courage to attempt such a feat. He blinked in surprise, and he said, "Hey now, I smell magic." Allen looked sidelong at Lavi.

"You do? You have a sharp nose."

Miles had briefly explained _residuum _to the both of them, and Bookman had gone into even greater depth with Lavi. From what the redhead could remember, the _residuum _was the magical signature of a witch or warlock, created after the exchange of energy was completed. Smell had no energy of its own other than to _be, _so it was a mystery where it came from, as a witch only ever dealt with the world of energy. Bookman had proposed the hypothesis that the energy exchange was not always complete, and a small bit is converted into actual mass, becoming _residuum, _but it was only a hypothesis.

What Lavi smelled was a mix of peat, ozone, and metal shavings. Obviously, it wasn't Kanda's brand of magic - Lavi knew that the regeneration Kanda could achieve didn't have the same sort of energy exchange as the processes the witches of this dimension used, therefore emitting no odor. However, Miles had said that Kanda was a warlock. Perhaps he was learning from this woman.

And, to the shock of both Allen and Lavi, the young woman Kanda was talking to kissed his cheek with a quick peck. Their eyes nearly bugged out of their respective heads.

Kanda was _not _a touchy-feely person, much less someone who allowed strangers (for she had to be a stranger) to kiss him.

"Did she just -" Allen pointed down, looking to Lavi. His companion rubbed his eyes to make sure he wasn't dreaming. When he saw that he wasn't, he let loose a loud guffaw.

"Kanda's got a giiirlfriiiend~!" Lavi cackled, and Allen flinched at the loud noise his friend was making.

"Lavi..."

"Aaaaaahahaha, it's gotta be love at first sight or something, woooohooo!"

"Lavi, he's staring at us..."

"And-and-and they'll make beautiful ginger Asian babies and it'll be the best thing since sliced bread!"

"Uh, Lavi, seriously, he's drawing his sword now..."

"I wish I had one of those portable cameras that they've got on their little phones! No one's gonna believe me when I tell them! Ahahaha!"

"Lavi, we should leave_ right now." _

It was too late. With nary two leaps, Kanda had scaled up the side of the building and was now towering on top of the wall over the two boys. Allen and Lavi stared at the angry swordsman with looks of sheepish lameness. Allen pointed at Lavi.

"All the laughing - that was him."

"Wha- ALLEN! How DARE you throw me under the - AAAACK I WAS KIDDING I WAS KIDDING LET ME GO," Lavi gasped as Kanda used the back of his blade to put Lavi in a chokehold. Allen scooted away from his friend, hoping to escape the same punishment. The glint in Kanda's eyes as he stared at Allen, who trying to scoot away, spoke otherwise. However, as if by the grace of God, the curly-headed woman with Kanda seemed to pop over the wall like a gleeful fairy, alighting lightly behind Kanda. She tapped him on the shoulder, and he turned to look at her with a deadpan expression.

"What do you want?" he grumbled. "I'm busy."

Allen watched in amazement as she began to make strange hand signals. Kanda couldn't possibly read them that fast... could he? He seemed to be struggling, but he got the gist. He sighed.

"They're my... comrades. Trust me, he's suffered worse." More handsigns. Allen stood up and dusted himself off, trying to look more presentable. He was dressed in a t-shirt, jeans, and gauze around his blackened arm to cover it up, so he felt out of place. He was used to wearing something much more formal, like his collared shirt and vest. Lavi was still fighting to get out from Kanda's headlock. The swordsman in question finally gave the woman a squinty-eyed, annoyed look before dropping the redhead.

"Fine. Talk to them," Kanda said as Lavi theatrically rolled around, holding his throat and sucking down air. Allen coughed at the back of his throat for attention, and all three looked at him.

"Aren't you going to introduce us to your lady friend?" Allen asked politely, gesturing to the young, curly-haired woman. Lavi was right - she was cute. However, Allen didn't feel any sort of attraction. His mind was on other things at the moment. There were more important things to think about than the nice physical attributes of particular ladies. Then again, Lavi was not of such a mind, and seeing as he was now done hyperventilating, he was practically drooling at her feet. She didn't seem fazed.

"She can speak for herself - sorry about that," Kanda said, glancing over at his companion. The woman waved her hands in a 'no offense taken' movement. Allen noted ever so slightly that Kanda made sure that the woman could see his face when he spoke. She must be deaf, rather than mute. However, for Kanda to take any sort of care to do something so civil was odd.

The woman suddenly seemed to materialize a whiteboard and marker. She scribbled on it furiously, producing a good chunk in minutes.

'Name's Ashling Smithson. Teaching your comrade. Strong warlock, needs time. Been teaching him all morning. Nice to meet you. Deaf witch - accident long time ago. Want to join? Any you warlocks? Know Miles and Cam. Helped them out of coven. Know how covens work. Names?'

"Allen Walker," Allen stated simply.

"Your next boyfriend," Lavi said cheekily. Ashling crossed her arms, and she gave him a once-over before sticking her tongue out at him. Lavi pretended to be wounded by the rejection, putting his hands over his heart as if he'd been stabbed. Ashling smiled widely, making a finger gun and 'firing'. In turn, the redhead pretended to catch the bullet with an 'unimpressed' look, and Allen managed not to gag at the hams currently occupying the rooftop. Allen stood in front of Lavi before more damage could be done (and Kanda looked mightily annoyed as it was, so it wasn't any use to have Lavi end up with a bruised windpipe from another chokehold).

"We're not warlocks, but we'd still like to learn about magic. Perhaps we can better defend ourselves that way. Do you mind?" Allen asked politely, holding out his hand. Ashling enthusiastically shook, and Allen felt a strange presence suddenly go through him, as if his entire being were shivering ever so slightly.

_I'd love to teach you. Kanda's already been pretty responsive, and besides we were going to have breakfast. Liam is an amazing cook. You might want to relay this to your friend, by the by, seeing as he can't hear this right now. I'm not touching him. I apologize if it feels weird._

"No, no! It's... it's fine, just odd. Of course we'd love to join you for breakfast. Can we see some of your magic at work?" Allen asked. Ashling suddenly got a mischievous look on her face. She looked over at Kanda, still holding on to Allen's hand.

_How much do you trust this hunk of muscle? _It was almost like Kanda could sense what she was saying, because he began to glower.

Allen grimaced with a slight smile as he shrugged. Lavi was watching the back and forth with a slight expression of perplexity. Ashling let go of Allen's hand, and she walked over to Kanda. She held out her hand, and Kanda stared at it before looking into her face. There seemed to some sort of mental conversation going on between the two of them, because for almost five minutes, they did nothing but read each other's eyes. It wasn't the romantic sort of stare, either. It was quickly becoming apparent that their 'conversation' was devolving into a sort of silent contest of wills.

And, to their great amazement, Kanda looked away. He took her hand for a few seconds, and the conversation that ensued seemed heated, though all Allen and Lavi could see was the fact that Kanda had a vein twitching in his forehead, and Ashling had a very determined look on his face. Kanda yanked his hand away roughly, and he answered her in a venomous tone.

"Fine. I need to practice, anyways."

Ashling winked at him with a smile, and he rolled his eyes at her as he muttered, "Tch." He motioned for the other two to come over. Lavi, already lost as it was, felt as if he were a blindfolded mouse in a maze full of electric traps. He had absolutely no idea what was going on. Allen was only slightly more enlightened.

"Allen, I have a bad feeling in my gut," Lavi confessed.

Allen bit his lip, looking at Lavi as they walked towards their teammate hesitantly.

"I don't like this either."

Kanda seemed to be steeling himself. He stepped up on the ledge, and the other two followed. Ashling stood next to Kanda on the far side of both Lavi and Allen, and the three waited.

"What's supposed to be going on?" Allen whispered to Lavi, who answered with a shrug. Very suddenly, all four were lifted off the wall in a great rush. The two screamed in surprise, and Kanda ordered vehemently, "Shut _up. _Do you _want_ me to drop you two stories?" Despite their initial panic both Lavi and Allen managed to hold still. Ashling did not look the _least _concerned, but then again, she was a witch. This was probably normal for her.

Kanda, however, seemed to be struggling to keep all of them afloat as he started towards the ground, and ten feet from his target destination, his spell cut out. Allen and Lavi let out another short shout as they were suddenly halted within six inches of the ground. Lavi's nose nearly brushed the concrete, and Allen's butt seemed to be sitting on a very short, invisible stool. Ashling motioned for the two of them to stand up, and they shakily obeyed. Kanda was already in a kneeling position, sweating heavily from the exertion involved with the spell. Ashling suddenly let the spell drop, and all four people hit the ground.

"_That's _what you've been teaching him?!" Lavi asked incredulously, brushing himself off. Ashling shrugged and motioned with a hand 'so-so'. Kanda scoffed at that.

"Teaching? That's a joke. And you didn't tell me it'd take that much out of me. I'm not some sort of god, you know," Kanda grumbled at her as he pointed a finger, obviously angry, and Ashling stuck her tongue out at him. She made more rapid hand signs, both Allen and Lavi hardly able to keep up with the blur, and Kanda apparently was having the same problem because he was glaring at her. Ashling rolled her eyes as she stopped signing, pushing back her mass of curls from her forehead. She gestured for everyone to follow her.

"We're not going on anymore surprise flying adventures, are we?" Allen asked reluctantly as he trailed behind Ashling. Lavi shrugged.

"Who knows. Still, at the least, we definitely won't be bored," the apprentice sighed, scratching his headband. Kanda shoved the two of them forwards, muttering, "Hurry it up. I'm hungry." Allen shot him a murderous glance, but he didn't retaliate seeing as he recognized he was not on his own turf at the moment. All three disappeared into the garage door behind the theatrical, redhead witch, wondering what other wonders they were going to see today.

* * *

><p>The mansion was large. The grounds were well kept. The driveway was impeccable. It was just as Miles remembered it, and she sighed through her nose as she thought about what she had to do. She'd worn a skirt and a white blouse just for this occasion, and she hoped that Serg would take the hint. She pushed the call button, hoping that he'd have the decency to pick up on the first ring.<p>

He didn't. It took her another three tries before an irate voice asked, "What do you want?"

"It's Gale, Sergei." There was a long period of silence. She hoped that he didn't renege on their original plan to meet at his house. His mood was normally mercurial at best, and with his condition he was even more unstable than ever. He was almost the epitome of the depressed, troubled genius, minus the romanticism. No one was willing to hire Sergei because of his inability to work in a team setting, and his money was dwindling fast. His parents had left him a good amount in his inheritance, but that wasn't enough to keep his lavish lifestyle up and running. Already, Gale could tell that he'd been selling the cars that were his hobby, if the demolition of the garage that usually sat on the east end of the house said anything.

That would only put him in a fouler mood than he was already in, and Gale honestly no longer liked to associate with him, but he was a friend who might be able to help. She sincerely hoped he could bury the hatchet just this one time to come out and do something for someone else rather than stew in his own juices and grease his fingers down to the bone on those cars in an attempt to forget the world outside actually wanted him to pay bills now and then.

The door clicked open, and Gale looked inside. Just like the last time she'd come, the house was completely dark. He'd had all the curtains drawn, and the paintings his parents had collected seemed to glow underneath their red lights. She stepped into the foyer, noting that it was emptier than usual. A lot of the furniture and quite a few paintings were gone. His funds must really be drying up if he was willing to sell any of his family's collection. His mother and father had been avid collectors, buying paintings from little known artists who were, nonetheless, very good. She shivered as she realized that she was beginning to freeze. Outside it was almost 110 degrees. In here, it was easily 65 degrees.

"Been a long time," a deep, gravelly voice said, and Gale turned quickly towards one of the tall, dark wooden doors leading to the foyer. All of the doorways were dark, and the only light came from the overhead chandelier of spun glass. There were four door ways, one for each direction, and Gale had just come in through one. She knew he was doing this for dramatic effect as well as petulance.

Sergei stepped out of the eastern door way, light spilling over his features like water. His hair was a dark wavy brown and disheveled, and he was wearing a silk robe with a terrible pattern. His face had nearly three days' growth of beard in splotches around his face, and his hands were greasy. He had grease marks on his face, and his nearly skeletal features created bas-reliefs on his skin. Eyes burnt to a sepia color stared out at her, and Gale felt unsettled as she could see the _thing _lurking underneath. Sergei wasn't dangerous in the least, but what had happened to him showed itself once in a while. It made her feel a deep guilt.

He'd just been an innocent civilian. If anything, she regretted his involvement the most. She should've been the one to shoulder the burden for her hubris, but as God would have it, another suffered for it. And, in a way, she suffered the more from _his_ suffering.

"Alright, just spit it out. You told me the gist. Now I want to know the whole thing," he stated, narrowing his eyes. His thin, sharp nose flared ever so slightly, obviously upset. Still, she'd counted on his curiosity. Gale glanced at the sofa, and Sergei gestured to it. She carefully sat down, being sure to cross her ankles. She couldn't help noticing that Sergei seemed to involuntarily follow the line of her shins, and she shifted uncomfortably. He stared into her face guiltily, rubbing the thin bridge of his nose.

"I... apologize. His new hunger is women these days," Sergei stated, lazily seating himself on her other side, much closer than she knew he normally would've sat. Even _he _was affecting his subconscious in some ways. A pang of shame went through her. She clasped her hands in her lap, fiddling with a ring on her finger. Sergei stared at the ring for a moment as Gale composed her story, and he suddenly took her hand.

"I remember this. I bought this for you, didn't I?" he asked softly, his sudden change from gruff and angry to gentle and contemplative was jarring. It had been a long time since she'd been around Sergei and his incredibly mercurial moods.

"Yeah. You took me to Chonburi in Thailand for a vacation, remember?" she chuckled. He'd managed to lose his shorts at a waterfall because of an altercation with a rather stingy fish, and she'd had to let him use her T-shirt in order to go back down the mountain and buy another pair. As repayment, he bought her a garnet ring, a turn she definitely had not expected. It was telling of Sergei's personality.

"Those were the good days, huh? Back when you quit and actually joined the real world," Sergei said, his voice rough as his eyes took on a far away cast. Gale stared at the ring, not willing to look into his face. Those had been good days for the both of them, when they'd just been friends who liked nothing more than hanging out when there was nothing to do.

But those were still coven days, and if Gale could've, she would have forgotten them.

"What's your problem now?" Sergei asked seriously, and she looked into his face. Hungry eyes stared out of his face, and she realized that he wanted to know out of more than just curiosity. He was being consumed from the inside by the... the _thing _within him, and he needed to occupy himself before it drove him mad. He needed distraction and purpose, or else he'd lose himself. His unkempt state was testament to that.

"A couple of guys went dimension hopping involuntarily because of you-know-who -"

"Why don't you just say her name? Not like you're afraid of her."

"...She tried to summon a demon. Something big. Possibly even tried to summon Cthulu or something. I have no idea, okay?! I'm just... I'm just trying to get them back home and help them survive while they're here. They've attracted quite a bit of attention, though, because from Cameron keeps telling me, all of them show up on the _ergomund _one way or another."

"I thought everyone shows up on the _ergomund." _

"Yeah, everybody does, but there are levels to the _ergomund,_ not just the surface layer. The dark-haired guy with the long hair I was telling you about could very well be a warlock, and there's something magically odd about him, because it's like someone's stuffed a nuclear bomb down his throat. He practically lights up the block to anyone with eyes to see. The white-haired kid as some odd ability, but it's untapped. And the redhead... he's a lot more shrewd than he lets on, and he has his own brand of magic, but it's somehow stored in his covered eye - he has an eye patch - and he's not saying anything about it yet. And the old guy's plenty smart, adapted real well. He has a ton of magical talent already, and he says that he's encountered my... kind... before," Gale explained, leaning back into the sofa cushions. She suddenly felt drained, but not in a bad way. It was a relief to be able to unload this secret on someone else.

Once upon a time, Sergei had been a confidant of hers, someone to whom she told everything. It was a level of security the coven couldn't even touch. Though a coven was supposed to be family, there was so much in-fighting and pettiness among the women that meaningful relationships were scarce as dragon's teeth.

"You need to get them back home before the other coven either kills them or kidnaps them," Sergei stated. Gale nodded slowly.

"I would've arranged for Iris to send them all back using the same circle, but another sacrifice would've been necessary. The original circle we'd created together still needed one human at the least - and the one she used this time needed _four _-, so I think she would've killed them just out of convenience and spite. I need your help to create a better circle, _much _better. I... couldn't stand to have to... Dear God..." Gale rubbed her eyes as she remembered that fatal moment, another bystander so carelessly thrown away. That day had been... so disastrous.

Sergei suddenly engulfed Gale in a hug, and she stiffened immediately, her vision slipping into the _ergomund _almost immediately in response. Slowly she began to relax as Serg said, "It's over, you know. You really should've accepted the therapist I sent you. I think you still need it."

She pushed him gently away, almost reclining against the arm of the couch because he'd leaned so heavily against her. She could guess that his enthusiasm had been partly from him missing her and equal part ... _him _wanting the nearest female. No wonder Sergei had sequestered himself in his house for so long. He would've been put on restraining order after restraining order if he'd left.

"Look at you. Spend your money on yourself. Are you helping or not?" she asked seriously, returning to business as she looked dead into his eyes, needing desperately to know that his answer was completely his own. Sergei considered, faltering as his expression flitted from uncertain to frightened to intrigued.

"Yes. I will help you." Gale nearly collapsed with relief, bowing her head towards her knees.

"Thank you," she breathed, looking up through her eyelashes and strands of wayward blonde-dyed hair. Sergei leaned back against the opposite arm of the couch, and he laced his fingers over his navel, suddenly all smiles and cheeky cockiness.

"Now, what do we need first."

Gale winced slightly.

"Um, well, if we're going to start on that, we'll need a couple of plane tickets to the Yucatan peninsula..."

* * *

><p>"This is amazing!" Allen downed the soup as fast as he could manage without burning his tongue, while Liam watched in amazement.<p>

"Where does all of it go?" the Irish man asked, his thick accent nearly obscuring his words completely as the tall, patrician-nosed brunette continued to stir the soup. Lavi laughed, counting the number of bowls that Allen had consumed in the past thirty minutes.

"The Science Department - you know, the guys who make all sorts of different things, that sort? - thought that maybe he was hiding a black hole in there, but we haven't been able to check," Lavi snickered, and Kanda rolled his eyes at the theatrics of his teammates. Ashling was giggling as well, holding up an iPad with an open, blank page on it. Much to the amazement of both Lavi and Allen, she could write entire paragraphs merely by touching the device. Kanda himself wasn't quite sure how it worked; all he knew was that it was a combination of technology and magic.

Allen set his bowl down with a _thunk _and pouted.

"Hey! And who's the one who ate nearly five plates of yakiniku? You nearly made yourself sick. I at least eat only until I'm not hungry anymore," Allen rebutted, and Lavi stuck out his tongue. Ashling waved at the two of them with an overly exasperated (though slightly amused) expression. She touched the tablet and it spelled out 'Ladies, ladies, you're both beautiful, no need to fuss.' Liam snorted to himself as Allen and Lavi made noises of disgust at this jab. Kanda quietly sat in the corner of the kitchen, merely watching the proceedings. He didn't like participating in these shenanigans.

All five people were in the Smithson family kitchen, the three newcomers having already met every one of Ashling's five siblings. They owned the entire apartment complex, running it alongside their repair garage and metalwork shop. Only Ashling was magically capable, however. As Kanda had learned, the other brothers could see into the _ergomund, _but they had no actual ability to manipulate it. Lavi seemed to have sensed this as well - Kanda had no idea if he had Vision either.

"So, what've you been teaching our dear comrade since he's been absent from our presence? And do you mind teaching us?" Lavi asked in very hammy tones, and Ashling lifted both eyebrows while pursing her lips in a very pleased fashion.

"You had to ask," Kanda grumbled as he glowered in his corner, hands curled around a mug of coffee. He'd taken to drinking the foul tasting substance more to wake him up than for the actual flavor. In the Order, he'd order it (no pun intended) in the mornings just to get himself ready to face the day with all those idiots. He definitely needed it now - the idiots had multiplied in the past hundred and fifty years.

The iPad came alive with a few short sentences.

'I've started him on Basic training. Mostly, it's the usual energy manipulation, recognizing energy signatures and types, understanding the _ergomund, _looking into it without going mad, that sort of thing. Nothing really hard. He's learning fast. He's in very good hands. And you could be, too. I definitely wouldn't mind teaching you? Most of it's pretty hands-on.'

Ashling winked at Lavi, and he raised both eyebrows at her rather suggestively. It was hard to say which of the three was more mortified than the rest: Liam, Allen, or Kanda. Ashling and Lavi had done nothing but flirt incessantly with each other since breakfast had started. For once, Allen and Kanda could agree on something: Lavi was becoming an insufferable skirt chaser, and Ashling wasn't helping.

"This is a nice place you have here," Allen commented, trying to change the subject and distract the two flirts. He looked at all the metal statues made of random pieces of machinery and bolts, amazed at this new art form. He'd never seen anything like it in his life. How was it someone could fuse metal this way, to create such wonderful pieces of beauty?

"You like it? Caughney did all the remodeling, and Izzie did the art pieces. He sells those to local buyers," Liam explained as he started putting the dishes in the sink. He suddenly pointed at Ashling and demanded, "You are doing the dishes. I cooked. You're not allowed to resume teaching until all of these are done." Ashling gave him a rather rude hand signal, one that none of the 19th century fish-out-of-water needed to translate, before hopping out of her chair and over to the dishes.

"Leave," Kanda stated simply, pointing to the door as soon as Ashling was at the sink. Ashling looked over her shoulder with a downtrodden look, but Kanda only glared at her. No words were needed. She turned back around with a stomp and vicious began scrubbing the massive amount of bowls in the sink. Lavi groaned while Allen stated, "I can leave whenever the lady wishes me to!" Ashling gave a sparkly eyed glance at Allen for his chivalry, but Kanda was adamant.

"Get. Out. You've got no business here," Kanda stated, obviously not joking by the way he grabbed one of the kitchen knives off the counter. Lavi dragged Allen with him, struggling and protesting, towards the door to the garage.

"All right, all right, we're going, we're going!"

"Lavi! Let go of me! I said that I'll leave when Miss Ashling says -"

"She can't say anything, so you don't have to worry about it! Good bye! Thanks for breakfast!"

Ashling waved a sudsy hand at them as they began to leave, unperturbed. Obviously, she hadn't heard Lavi's quip about her not being able to say anything, otherwise Kanda was sure she'd have thrown something at him. She'd already tossed a wrench at Kanda's head, and much to Ashling's surprise Kanda had actually chucked it back at her. Only magic saved her from having a bruise the size of Canada on her shoulder. The ensuing scrabble had been... interesting.

Kanda followed the other two out the door, making sure that they bypassed the myriad of dangerous equipment. Kanda still had no idea what any of it did, but he had the idea that if Lavi tried operating any of it out of curiosity, he was going to lose the _other _eye one way or another. Just as he'd predicted, Lavi tried touching something, but Allen was way ahead of him. The younger boy slapped Lavi's hand, and the redhead gave him a pouty look.

"What? Not like I was going to break it or anything..."

"Lavi, did Bookman never teach you that you shouldn't touch things that aren't yours?"

"Tch. He probably did, and the idiot could never remember it. Crappiest Bookman alive," Kanda quipped as Lavi surreptitiously tried to look at something else using those prodigious fingers, and Kanda shoved him forward through all the mess of metal scrap pieces.

"Hey, hey! Easy on me, here, sheesh! I'm almost the _only _Bookman alive by now, thank you," Lavi muttered in a mock-offended tone, though a tone of unease settled in his words. Finally, they were outside on the sidewalk, and Kanda turned to go back inside without further ado.

Suddenly, Lavi said, "Wait wait wait wait wait!"

Allen looked at Lavi critically, already knowing what he wanted to ask. Still, if he wanted to commit suicide by samurai, that was his prerogative... Still, Allen himself wanted to hear the answer to this. Though he didn't like Kanda in the least, the topic of him having an actual love life might finally give Allen some ammunition to use against that cold fish of a swordsman. Kanda looked through the door with a deadpan, dark face.

"What?"

"What was with the whole kiss thing about?" Kanda looked confused for a moment before realizing what he was talking about, and Kanda sagged against the door frame, head against the jamb, staring at them almost dejectedly.

"Crap. I'd thought you'd forgotten." Allen was surprised by the sudden display of humiliation. In fact, he attempted to be polite by hiding a snicker by turning his face away. Kanda took a deep breath, looking less than pleased.

"I don't have to tell you," he finally stated, staring straight at Lavi with narrowed eyes. Lavi smiled mischievously, threatening, "Oh, but I can always spin this any way I want. And don't think that anyone will believe it if you tell them that it was all just a lie." Kanda contemplated this while gripping the sword on its belt at his waist, narrowing his eyes further. Allen watched with avid interest, hardly aware his eyes were growing to the size of platters.

"She... talks to people by touching them. It's more convenient. And she... likes to tease. Besides, I met her yesterday. I'm not some manwhore like you who sticks his tongue down the throat of the first girl he sees," Kanda stated flatly. Lavi's jaw dropped as Kanda pointed the sword at him.

"Tell anyone, and I'll tie your intestines around your neck," Kanda seethed, and Lavi scootched as far away as he could without stepping into the street.

"Right! Right! Well, I'll see -" The door slammed shut.

"- you later."

Allen shook his head.

"Rude," he muttered. "Come on, let's go home. I'm starving."

"Allen, you just ate!"

"Well... I only ate half of what I normally would've. I thought it would've been rude to make them cook more than they had to..." Allen suddenly felt a buzzing in his pocket, and he dug around for the little device. He still couldn't figure out all the buttons. All he knew were the number keys and the call button. He'd originally thought they were golems, but now he knew they were closer akin to the phone packs that Finders used all the time, just smaller. Still, it was hard to wrap his head around. The text function was odd, too, and he wondered if he'd ever get used to all this new technology.

"Huh. Cam sent me a message," Allen said, taking another five minutes to figure out how to open it.

Lavi sighed and stated, "You know, we want to read this _today._"_  
><em>

"I'm trying the best I can! Oh... wait... Lavi, we need to get back to the apartment!" Allen suddenly shouted, running headlong across the street without any regard for traffic or bystanders. Lavi, floored by the sudden change in direction and tone, fought to keep up, much more aware of the stares and glares of the drivers.

"Sorry! Sorry! Allen, what's all this about!"

"Cam! _She's been attacked! THE APARTMENT'S ON FIRE!"_

Lavi finally looked to sky, and his eyes widened as he saw smoke billowing away to the east, swept away by the wind.

And as Lavi pushed himself to keep up with Allen's frantic pace, something followed them...

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** My apologies for the length! It's so long... But I had so much to write. I'm sorry for the delay. I worry that this is a filler chapter more than anything else that has nothing to do with the plot. Hopefully it's enjoyable, by way of fillers, and still has some modicum of goodness about it. My apologies for my absence as well. School (or, more accurately, everything else that isn't school) has eaten my time to the nub, so I'm writing on weekends and holidays and whenever I have a free minute here and there.

Great thanks to karina001 for that magnificent review. And please, be as chatty as you want! I love to see a good review on the story, even if it's just a paragraph long ramble on how funny it is to see Kanda get flustered. :)

Also big thanks to 0Book0Worm for favoriting this story so full of sordid OCs and a band of brave canon characters who so willingly try to wade through them.

And muchos kudos to karina001 for subscribing! So wonderful to know I have so many people who're willing to read the story whenever a new chapter comes out!

Finally, the discussion questions: _What parts of the story did you enjoy? Are the canon characters still in-character, or have they begun to derail? Do you foresee any future romance plots, or has it remained ambiguous from the get-go? This story has a lack of any sort of action - is this good or bad? What do you think is the prevalent genre so far on this story (as in, comedy, romance, fantasy, realism, etc.)? What did you enjoy the most out of this chapter? Do you think the story needs to pick up the pace? Or is it going too fast? How do you enjoy the day-to-day lives of the Exorcists so far?_

God bless you and happy reading! I'll try to get the next chapter up as soon as possible.


	9. The Andromeda Parallel

She looked out over the apartment. There weren't many vantage points around here. It's amazing those boys had gone rooftop hopping. Ugh, she hoped that they would make this quick. Watching them dash through the alleys, she eyed their destination with a slight smile.

She'd seen them. That was enough.

* * *

><p>There were already two large, blocky vehicles outside of the apartment complex. As the two Exorcists approached, they could see assortments of nozzles, hoses, and ladders draped all over the boxy frame, and they correctly guessed the bright red behemoth as some sort of mobile fire brigade. They were hosing down the inferno inside of the apartments with high pressure hoses, blasting the flames with water.<p>

Allen and Lavi shoved their way through a growing crowd of people as they stared in awe at the fire that was quickly spreading throughout the complex. It was obviously a magic-fueled fire - at least, to Lavi and Allen, it was. Though water would douse the flames for a few seconds, the fire would spring back to life with even greater fervor as soon as the water was moved to a different locale. It didn't look like the fire had spread below the second floor, though.

"What do we do?" Allen breathed, staring at the inferno raging inside.

"Is she inside of the building?" Lavi asked seriously, scanning each and every face. He could see the landlady being tended in the back of another boxy vehicle that was white. There were other tenants milling around below, just inside the ring of rubbernecks, but he couldn't see Cam in the midst of the throng.

"I think so. Let me ask," Allen said, frantically trying to work his phone. Lavi strayed away, scanning the crowds once more, hoping to catch a glimpse of Cameron's face. If she was trapped in the building...

There was a sudden commotion behind them, and Lavi turned around. His eyes widened as he watched Kanda shove his way past the multitudes.

"Ashling said she felt something going on around here, lots of pent up tension and energy. I figured it was going to be us," Kanda gruffly announced. "I'm only doing this because otherwise all of you would be a pain in my -"

"She's in the building!" Allen shouted to them, holding up his phone. Lavi's blood ran cold as he looked back at the inferno. They were going to try and get through _that? _Even with Innocence capabilities, that was going to be rough. The firemen standing around outside looked just as lost. Lavi could bet that they'd sent men in already and subsequently lost them, too. People were crying, particularly children. Haggard technicians wandered as if they had lost their way.

How many scenes like this had he witnessed? Even crossing the barrier between dimensions, disaster and destruction were universal.

"Well, what're we waiting for? We just have to get past them," Lavi said, pointing to the firemen standing guard. Kanda pointed around towards the next building.

"You were out running today. Jump across," Kanda briskly commanded, immediately heading in that direction. Lavi stared at his friend's back for a little bit, wondering what exactly had gotten into him and how he knew he'd been rooftop jumping. Kanda wasn't the type to be helpful... or inferring. Yet, Lavi guessed that even Kanda couldn't stand to see someone die. As much as he protested that fact, he was only human.

Well, human _enough._

Allen and Lavi followed behind, heading to the next apartment building. The door was guarded, but the side door wasn't. They slipped in silently, still able to hear the pop and roar of the fire only twenty feet across the way. It didn't take them long to reach the roof, and all three of them crouched down to stare at the flaming storm inside the building.

"That's not a regular fire," Kanda muttered.

"No, really? Because I thought water never trumps fire," Lavi sarcastically quipped, his frustration and worry leaking in his speech despite (or perhaps because of) the biting remark. Kanda, however, did not take the venting very well.

"You want me to throw you in so you can find out for yourself?" he threatened, and the two of them stood toe to toe for a few minutes. Allen immediately stepped between them, separating the two warriors.

"Easy. We need to focus. We'll do this later," Allen said seriously, the sixteen-year-old's face somber. The two men were quiet, tensely thinking. Lavi suddenly removed his hammer from his holster. He was _so _glad Bookman had convinced him to take it with him. The paranoid old man was awfully intuitive or, at the very least, darn lucky. However, they hadn't seriously tested their Innocence out here. Kanda's was a sword already, so it was useful in any form, activated or not. Allen's arm would always stay, but that didn't mean it'd transform. Lavi liked his hammer, but it was good for about, oh, _nothing, _outside of battle situations (or carpentry class).

"Here goes. Extend!" Lavi commanded, feeling both boys' eyes on him as they waited.

Thankfully, the shaft of the hammer elongated, and Lavi set it on the bottom sill of the nearest window across the alley.

"After you," he said with a cheeky smile, though his bottom lip twitched with apprehension. He didn't mind fire, usually. But this was not an ordinary fire, and it made him just a tad nervous.

Allen, however, had no reservations. He ran down the shaft with arms spread wide, his footing sure despite the two inches of magical hammer handle separating him from thirty feet of air. The white-haired Exorcist could hear Kanda follow behind, but he didn't bother looking back. He stood on the sill, dancing a little from the heat, as he tried to figure out a way to get in, when Kanda slashed through the window and blew it in with a single kick. Not one to stand on ceremony, Allen followed.

"She's in... the bathroom of her apartment! Where are we?!" Allen shouted over the roar of the fire. It was blazing hot! Allen had been in plenty of firefights, but this was a ballpark of a different kind all together! He shielded his head from falling debris as a light fixture exploded from the heat. He was sweating buckets already, and soot was coloring his hair gray. Kanda coughed raucously, though Allen didn't feel any sort of discomfort.

"How'm I supposed to know?! _Moyashi, _you're the one who lives here, you dolt!" Kanda shouted back through a fit of hacking. Allen forced his way through the living room, dodging flames. From behind, he could hear Lavi walking through the window from the tinkling of glass. Allen soon began coughing also, and he removed a handkerchief from his pocket. He couldn't see for the smoke, but he didn't need his eyes to make his way through the apartment. They had to be quick about it, though. The fire was spreading quickly like oil.

"Ne, Kanda, you've been learning magic! Why don't you put these out?!" Lavi asked.

"I've been learning for a full _day. _You think I can just put out flames like that?!" Kanda irately answered as Allen finally found the door.

"Kanda, that's not productive! At least try something!" Allen shouted back, patting his shoulder where an ember had begun to burn his clothes. Oddly enough, no matter how hard he tried to get it off, the ember continued to burn. Allen decided to prioritize, and he opened the door with his foot, the bottom of his shoe melting already from the high heat. He would be walking around with gum shoes soon! He covered his mouth with his elbow, and the three forged through the fire.

Immediately, the three ran into a group of people, and they didn't look the _least _bit worried about the fire. Thugs ranging from five feet to over six feet dressed in baggy clothes circled around a single witch wearing dark make-up and a skimpy outfit.

"Holy -!" The thug never got a chance to finish as Kanda socked him in the face. It wasn't long before a fight began, Allen and Lavi fighting the thugs while Kanda dealt with the witch. Allen muttered complaints under his breath. It couldn't be enough that they had to find their friend in a burning building! They had to deal with these lowlifes as well! However, as soon as the fighting had abated and all contestants had either fled or been incapacitated, Allen felt a clench in his heart. The ones on foot could get out, but they'd left their compatriots behind.

What now?

"I'll take them, Allen. It'll be easier for me than for you," Lavi stated, reading Allen's mind. "You take care of Cam!"

Lavi began lifting the bodies off the floor, and Allen marveled for a moment at Lavi's physical strength. Though the Bookman apprentice was always stuck in some book or asleep, he wasn't a slouch either. To be honest, at times he impressed Allen.

"I'll come with you. I think I know how to put out the flames. That witch's showed me enough about how to make them," Kanda said, examining a strand of hair that was half-burned. Allen nodded, and he began down the hallway again. They coughed and hacked as the smoke filled their lungs, and it was soon clear that Allen was lost. The regular features of their apartment had been marred by the fire. There was no way they'd be able to find the apartment! Allen's shoes were beyond repair, and Kanda looked like he was about to collapse, his face was so ashen.

"What's the matter?" Allen asked, wheezing.

"Nothing, you idiot. Don't stop moving," Kanda protested, shoving the younger boy forward. The white-haired Exorcist sighed as well as he could with the smoke, and he continued. However, the closer he appeared to get to the apartment they were looking for, it became apparent the flames were reaching higher, burning hotter, and devouring faster. Allen's heart raced as he realized that Cam might be dead by now. It'd been almost ten minutes. When had the actual fire started? She must be roasted alive!

With this realization, Allen trudged forward at a punishing pace, following his gut instinct. It was clear which was Gale's apartment by the blazing wall that covered the door, which couldn't be seen behind the wall of flames. Allen felt his gut clench with worry. His optimism refused to die, though, and he activated Crown Clown with a mutter. His hand turned into a glittering glove-and-claw of black and silver, and a cloak adorned his shoulders. The flames' heat was lessened, but not by much. The unnatural origin of the flames was even beginning to try and eat through the edges.

Allen entered his Innocence-laden hand into the torrent, and he was surprised to find he didn't feel anything but a faint brush as if someone had swept satin over his hand.

"It must be anti-magic," Kanda conjectured, and Allen nodded as he opened the door. An interesting quality he'd never quite considered. Of course - it was God's crystal. And magic... wasn't exactly God-friendly.

Just as Allen walked through, the door slammed shut behind him, and Allen only caught a glimpse of Kanda's surprised face as the door locked itself. The torrent seemed to grow out from that point, and Allen shielded himself as he was bathed in flames. His hair was singed, and he felt a piercing burn in his shoulder, though it was the one that had been farthest away from the sudden wall of flames. There was no going back through there, Innocence or no.

Though Kanda was a complete pain, Allen did feel a slight tick of concern. Still, the samurai was tougher than most people thought, which was already tough enough. He'd be fine.

Allen sweated as he dodged falling pieces of drywall. Soon enough, he found the source of the fire - there was an exposed gas line poking out of the floor spewing blue fire, a sure sign of a fire fight between two witches. It must have caused the fire, and the other witch had used it to her advantage. Allen's shoes were all but gone - nothing protected his feet from the blistering heat beneath. Already, he could feel burns seeping into his skin, boiling it from the inside. He had to be fast.

The teenager ran to the bathroom, vaulting the fountain of flame in the living room, and he found the bathroom door, which was completely untouched. The flames went around it like water around an island. It was clear Cameron had chosen here to wait out the fire.

Allen tried to open the door, but a forcefield of magical energy bounced him back and slammed him into a wall. Fiery dust sprayed around him, and he shouted in pain as it trickled down his neck. He got back up, aware of his unusual number of burns. The sensation in his shoulder had heightened from hot poker to white-hot wire. Allen managed his way back to the door, and he shouted, "CAMERON! LET ME IN!"

There was a frantic unlocking of the door, and it opened to receive the tired Exorcist.

It was like the eye of the storm. Though the maelstrom outside burned, the inside of the bathroom was cooler and quieter. Cameron sat on the floor with tearstreaks down her face. She hadn't even had time to put on make-up yet. She was still in her pajamas.

"W-what are you doing here?" Cameron sniffled, her face full of worry. Allen frowned.

"You... you sent me a... a text..." Allen said, digging around in his pocket for his phone. Cam shook her head.

"Didn't you read the other text after that?"

Allen deadpanned.

"There... was another text?"

Cameron took his phone, fiddled with it some, and showed him a list of text messages. Allen could never figure out how to do that. All he knew was how to read a recent text and send about two or three words. Allen took the phone and clicked on the text.

_i'm fine dont worry gonna be ok. we need a new apt. careful witches close by._

"Allen... these flames will kill you all," Cam said, her voice wavering. "You were the only one that came... right?"

Allen opened his mouth to say something, but all he could strangle out was, "Kanda and Lavi -"

"They came with?"

The young boy nodded. Cam looked horrified. She went over to the tub, which was full of water. From what Allen could tell, this must be what she'd used to cast her spell. Of course - magic water beats magic fire. She shivered.

"Gale would've come here and fixed the fire, or at the least got a freelance witch to do it. I tried to text her, but she never checks her phone," Cam said, her voice beginning to squeak into the upper register as fear weaved its way into her speech. She sat on the edge of the tub and buried her face in her hands, sobbing. Allen looked around, awkward and unsure what to do. He finally chose to sit on the edge of the tub with Cam, putting an arm around her shoulders.

"What do we do?" Allen asked. Cam sniffled, rubbing her nose. Her eyes were puffy, and her nose was red. She squeezed her eyes shut, and she swayed underneath Allen's arm. With care, Allen held her steady. She was already very pale, a sign that she was being drained very quickly. They had to move fast. Her energy wouldn't hold up forever.

"The fire has to stop. It'll never stop consuming the building until either I or Gale's dead. I think it'd gladly take one of you four, though, considering the bounty on you," Cam said, hiccuping. She put a hand over her mouth, burying her face into Allen's shoulder, her eyes wide as her shoulders heaved up and down. Allen began to notice that the room was steadily growing warmer.

"What've you been using to power the spell?" Allen asked. His words were hesitant. He was very afraid of the answer. Her response could spell doom for them both.

"I don't have any electrical outlets. I've been using those batteries." She pointed to the aforementioned Rayovac 9 volts. Three of the four there were already burned. The fourth remained untouched, but a small layer of tarnish was beginning to cover the ports. Cam rubbed her face, getting up and pacing. Allen sympathetically watched, knowing the younger girl wanted desperately to get her act together. She was, after all, a witch.

"After those burn out, I'll be using my body as the fuel source, which will... maybe give us five minutes before I collapse completely. Ten minutes before the spell consumes me, and I die," she sighed, sounding fairly normal by now. Allen nodded to himself, fingering his chin.

"How would you stop this fire, if you could?" Allen asked. Cam shrugged.

"I'd need someone on the outside as well as the inside. We'll stop the fire in here, but considering the gas line is what they're using to flood the building with fire, that'll need shutting off. That'll take some magical strength behind it, though, because I can bet that it won't close without someone with a magic touch closing off the valve," Cam said, rubbing her arms. Her pajamas were singed at the bottom, and Allen noticed her feet were burned. Allen's shoulder continued to pulse with a deep, deep burning sensation, as if something were burrowing inside of him. He tried to ignore the pain. After all, as a Parasitic he'd heal.

Suddenly, Allen was struck with an idea.

"Can't you call any of your witch friends?" he asked. Cam bit her lip.

"When you break with a coven... it's sort of like you've rejected your witchhood. I don't have any witch friends, besides some of Gale's old freelance hedgewitch buddies, and they don't have the clout to do something like this. They're not combat trained," Cam explained, sitting on the tile floor. Allen felt sweat begin dripping from his forehead. It was getting awfully hot.

And then, it clicked. _Combat trained magician... _

"Actually... there is someone on the outside we can call."

* * *

><p>"Dear God in heaven..." Gale breathed with a crack in her voice. Her knees shook, turning watery as she stared at the burning building that had been her home for nearly two years. She swallowed as she tried to beat her way through the crowd. She quickly removed her phone from her pocket, scanning the last message her sister had sent.<p>

_safe but building burning. come quick, SOS. find help. _

Gale bit her lip as she watched the raging inferno that was engulfing the apartment. She couldn't rescind the vow she made, but would that vow kill her sister? There was no way to get to any of the witches in town fast enough. She ran a hand through her hair, going through her options. No matter what, she'd need help, but from where?

As if from some divine cue, a small hand grabbed her elbow. On instinct, she yanked back, only to stare into the kohl-lined eyes of the old man she'd shared her home with for nearly two and a half weeks. His eyes were dark and intense despite their age, lines so much darker and deeper as if his face had been cured by the fire not fifteen yards away.

"My boys are in there, too. One just sent me a message," Bookman said. He gestured with his phone, sighing. Gale nodded. If she knew her sister like she knew she did, the girl had holed up in the bathroom and she would refuse to come out until the fire had died down, but the chance of the fire going away on its own was next to nothing.

"Text him and tell him to stay put. The fire has to have a source. Can you... can you see into the _ergomund_?" Gale asked with a touch of hesitance. Bookman stared into her eyes as if searching for something before answering.

"Yes, I can to an extent. My magic is not the same as yours, I'm afraid," Bookman explained, staring at the fire. As he searched, Gale gave him instructions.

"Look for lines of confluence heading towards a single point. Do you see anything?" Gale asked nervously. Bookman started to walk quickly in one direction away from the fire, and Gale followed in perplexity. Soon, the old man was running, flitting among the crowd, with Gale just managing to keep up. For a man that was so small and aged he moved with the liquidity of water! Old bones apparently didn't have the same restrictions as young ones. They ended up going in a roundabout pattern through the alley away from the burning building.

"Where are you going?" Gale panted. Even with her physical training, she was getting out of breath from running at a full sprint. Bookman, however, did not seem to be much affected.

"The source of the fire is the gas line. It's been tapped somewhere with a magic spell, and it's pumping the fire in that direction specifically. It's high level, very dangerous, and will probably be heavily defended," the old man grumbled, jumping over trash cans and leaping across obstacles. He nimbly scaled a fence, Gale scrambling to follow.

In his mind, he felt a knot of worry begin to build despite all his training to separate himself from his emotions. From what Allen had told him, they were in some very deep trouble. Lavi was nowhere to be found (not a surprise, but not exactly reassuring), Kanda was possibly trying to regenerate (with the slight possibility of failure), and Allen and Cam were trapped in the inferno, with Cam's life force in danger of being drained as the spell took its toll. They had minutes, if that.

He skidded around a corner, pushing himself. Though he had left Gale behind in his dust, he was still an old man, and he could feel his age beginning to take a toll. He hadn't sprinted this far or fast in years. The line of pulsing light in front of him was growing stronger, noting the nearness of their destination.

"We're almost there!" he shouted behind him. His heart raced, frantically trying to keep up with the exertion it was being put through. Bookman skidded around the final corner, only to stare into the face of three rather surprise witches decked in skimpy clothes and even more ridiculous make-up. Bookman sighed to himself.

"Good afternoon, ladies," he sarcastically quipped. Before they could even frown, he pounced.

* * *

><p>"Hot hot hot hot hot," Lavi muttered to himself as he dumped the last man in the coolest place he could find within the apartment building. The fire fighters would be the first to find them, hopefully, and Lavi looked back at the inferno that threatened to kiss his skin with their lecherous tongues, oily smoke filling his nostrils as he reluctantly began to approach the hallway. He didn't have much choice. He couldn't leave Allen.<p>

He had barely managed to remember the lay-out of the apartment. It was very different from the tenements he'd lived in as a child and the hotels he'd frequented as a young adult. The rooms were larger, less robust, and the smoky layer over the air didn't help matters. He crouched as he ducked beams and dodged the holes in the floor. He'd went into a bathroom and doused himself the best he could. His one eye watered as the smoke attempted to invade it, and he slowly made his way through the building.

Sadly, he noted that there were several people who had not been able to get out. It was too late to save them, or so Lavi thought. He had to tell himself this. If he didn't, he'd stop and help every person he saw, bringing down his and his teammates chances of survival. He had to save those he knew would be able to make it - ironically, the men who'd attacked them. He felt a pang, though, as he passed a half-burned baby-doll, his heart wrenching.

It took him a moment to realize that he was lost. He had no idea what floor he was on - he'd lost count. With panic welling in his chest, his eyes widened. The smoke was causing shadows, making things appear that were not there. He had to fight the demons on the inside as well as the fire on the outside. He had to remind himself to go slowly, taking shallow breaths. Finally, he hit the stairs. He yelped as his feet suddenly touched the singed floor. His tennis shoes were burnt through completely. He sighed wistfully. These had been some nice shoes. He'd never worn anything this comfortable.

Getting his mind off the demolition of his shoes, he forced himself up the stairs. The apartment was three stories tall, but this was the second floor. Duh! Lavi resisted the urge to slap his forehead. He was such a dolt. There weren't many places he could go... A crash behind him reminded him that he had to keep moving.

Very suddenly something exploded next to his head, and Lavi fell over in a stunned daze. He coughed as he felt his face burn, steam showering him with its intensive heat. He scrambled away as his clothes were bathed in scalding steam, and he cursed under his breath as he crawled along the floor. It was so smoky he could see nothing, and he feared he was headed in the wrong direction until he suddenly touched someone's head. He shouted in surprise and pulled back before taking a closer look.

Dark hair splayed out on the floor, large chunks of it burned to a crisp. The smell of baking flesh filled the air along with the faint odor of ozone. The clothes were also badly singed, but still recognizable as a white button-up shirt and black pants. Burned boots donned the feet. It didn't take Lavi long to realize it was his downed comrade.

"Kanda? Kanda! Yuu, get up!" Lavi shouted, trying to heave the man to his feet without thinking. The Japanese Exorcist didn't even make a sound, much less move. Lavi teetered as the smoke filled his lungs, and he coughed. Through the haze, he could see that Kanda's leg was trapped underneath a large layer of debris, and the door right next to them was seething with fire. Lavi tried to dig Kanda out with his hammer, pleading with him to get up, when the fire suddenly began to abate. The blaze lost its intensity, reaching a more normal temperature, though this by no means made the apartment comparable to sunny Waikiki.

"W-wha... 's going on?" a muffled voice asked, and Lavi looked down. Kanda tried to turn over, and he screamed. Lavi profusely objected to this, turning him back over on his stomach.

"I don't know, but the fire's going down," Lavi told Kanda haltingly, panting. "I think it's almost over."

Kanda looked up at the door, sparking with vague determination.

"Why haven't you broken the door down, idiot? They're still in there," Kanda grumbled, grumpy as ever, if not more considering the state he was in. Lavi looked up at the fire-bathed door. He took a deep breath and enlarged his hammer. It was down in seconds.

"I'll come right back," Lavi said to his downed friend, and Kanda rolled his eyes.

"Stop being so melodramatic. You act like I'm going to die," Kanda coughed with a deadly stare. Lavi opened his mouth to answer back, but nothing came out. So, instead, he ran into the burning apartment, leaving his compatriot on the floor. Kanda looked back at his leg, and he sighed. This was going to be so much _fun. _

The redhead was immediately met with a massive wall of blazing plasm, and it was only hiding behind his hammer that he escaped the onslaught. Staring through the smoke, he could see that there was a pulse of magic-fueled fire growing out from a pipe in the floor separating him from a room buzzing with ward magic.

"Allen! ALLEN! CAM!" Lavi shouted over the roar of consuming flames.

"LAVI! GET BACK!" a muffled voice shouted back through the door, and Lavi had enough sense to hide behind what was left of the furniture.

The bathroom door flung open, a white blur escaping like so many cool clouds, and Lavi was assaulted with a blast of timed flame. The last thing he remembered was a white figure standing over him, shouting his name.

* * *

><p>"That escalated quickly," Gale panted. The witches had either scattered or scratched back, but either way they ended up on the ground somehow. With Bookman's prowess at the needle and Gale's ability with fisticuffs, they'd brought down nearly all of them in little under five minutes.<p>

"I believe you call that a meme," Bookman said, cracking his knuckles. He'd just dismantled the magical engineering around the gas pump, albeit clumsily.

"A...meme?" Gale asked, leaning over her knees as she caught her breath. Bookman gave her a mischievous look, a small smile on his face.

"It appears I'm a little more caught up with this era than I'd thought," Bookman flippantly mentioned, shrugging as he checked his Nokia phone. It was the cheapest and easiest-to-use phone they could find on short notice, and so far it had served him well. He'd even dropped it down a drain into the sewers, and after about twenty minutes of fishing he'd brought it back out in near perfect condition. That was more than he could say of some of the other phones he'd seen, with their spiderweb cracks and faulty programming...

_All fine. Bringing down fire. Cam is fine. Lavi unconscious. Kanda missing. -Allen_

Bookman sighed through his nose as he rubbed his eyes with his worn fingers. To imagine he'd been on the computer in the library this entire time. He hadn't even checked his phone until Allen had texted with a missive for help. He'd immediately taken a cab as close as he could get. Before that, he'd been researching, and he'd discovered a...grammatically incorrect 'site' (was that it?) that contained all sorts of small jokes defined by pictures but changeable in content. It was intriguing to say the least. Well, and funny.

He made a mental note to never show Lavi. The boy would eat, sleep, breathe, and crap in front of a computer for the rest of his life, he'd be so amused.

"They have it under control. After I told them about the pulse rhythm of the magic, they said they waited for a big one and jumped out, but Lavi was hit with it. He is only unconscious," Bookman said, toddling his way down the street. He suddenly felt bone-tired. They couldn't keep doing this. Every day was a new battle, be it against the world they now lived in or the enemies in the shadows waiting for them. Now, they had no place to live.

Or so it seemed.

"What are your plans? We can always find work as street performers or handymen," Bookman said to Gale, and the young woman rubbed the broken bridge of her nose. She suddenly opened her mouth, seemed to choke on her words, and shrug helplessly. She stared forward with a lost look, and Bookman felt a spike of compassion. Though she acted the part of the adult, Bookman had to keep in mind she had just barely left the sweet bliss (or destructive wantonness) of adolescence.

"I'll...oh, god, it's too embarrassing," she muttered, pushing back her hair. "No, no, I... I've got insurance, I've got friends, I can hole up somewhere with Cam but... I can't leave you guys and... Ugh, I can't believe this."

Bookman gave her a raised eyebrow in response. That was enough of a question. She looked off with a chagrined look, grimacing sheepishly.

"I guess... I've got to move back in with my parents."

Bookman frowned. This was a... bad thing? The natal home was usually considered a place of warmth and, most usually, the family never left to branch out, at least not far.

"This is socially unacceptable?" Bookman asked, folding his hands as he walked.

"Are you kidding me? It's mortifying! I mean, geez, I'm gonna be fed to death and get fat on all of Nana's Mexican food, and then Dad's gonna wanna drink with me even though I don't drink, and then I've got Mom, and oh dear god, she's gonna wanna know when I'm gonna get married and have kids, and Cam's going to be so bored on the ranch. I don't even wanna _think _about shopping with them. They're going to drive me nuts! I should just dig a hole, hide in it, and die!" she lamented, throwing her hands into the air. Bookman smirked, amused at her display of mortification.

Perhaps realizing how much she'd revealed to the old man about her roiling subconscious, she brought herself back under composure.

"Uh, well, um... I'm sorry, I, uh, I didn't mean to..."

"No offense taken, kid. No offense taken."

* * *

><p>"Hold still. This isn't like a normal hospital, Lavi, they really will kick you out for ruining equipment!" Allen flipped through his magazine lazily, bored out of his mind. These ugly models didn't help, but it was something to do. Since when did being a skeleton get to be attractive? Allen would never understand. Of course, he was <em>celibate, <em>but that didn't mean he had no idea of aesthetics. Men tended to like their women with a little meat on their bones.

"Ah, come on, I just wanna see what this doohickey- ... uh oh."

Lavi hastily stuck a button back into what he thought was its intended place. As per usual, he was exploring the hospital to his heart's content, much to the displeasure of the nurses. Of course, none of them had _anything _on Matron. No one of the medical profession could hurt as much as heal as that crotchety, fun-sucking, sour-faced, old -

"Raggedy, ear-pulling, maniacal, crazy old lady..." Lavi finished unconsciously. Allen stared at him.

"Lavi... are you feeling alright?" Allen asked, cocking his head to the side. The redhead looked up with surprise.

"Did I just say that out loud?"

Allen nodded uncertainly.

"...It was the smoke. Anyways!" Lavi slapped his hands down on the bed.

"Does it look bad? Will I get scars? They won't give me a mirror," Lavi complained. The sterile hospital room was... well, sterile (duh), immaculate, cheerless despite the added favor of flowers, and bland with its industrial grade tile, chairs, and tables. Allen got up and sat on the side of the bed, sighing. He pretended to open his mouth and say something before remorsefully shaking his head. Lavi's one eye widened.

"What?!"

Allen decided to play it up.

"Well... I mean, maybe the peeling will go away. But I guess those scars will be purple for the rest of your life. But that doesn't really matter, right? It's the inside that counts," Allen said cheerfully, poking Lavi in the chest as his friend stared at him in horror.

"You're not serious! No no no no, I can't be ugly!" Lavi gasped, slapping his bandaged hands over his gauze-laden cheeks. He seriously looked like he was gonna cry. They'd hyped him up on enough pain meds to send a horse flying high. He was... a little out of sorts at the moment.

The redhead buried his face into his pillow and groaned, "No one will looooove meeeeeee."

Allen blinked at his friend's shenanigans, realizing he might've gone a _tad _too far into harassing the poor Bookman Junior. He never realized just how touchy Lavi could be about appearances...

"What's the matter with him?" Cam asked as she walked through the curtain. The hospital room was defined by two curtains and a hallway, considering they'd been taken to the ER. Because Lavi hadn't been heavily injured, there was no reason to do anything besides a superficial treatment of his wounds.

"I'm ugly!"

"He's overdramatic," Allen sighed affectionately, patting his friend's shoulder.

"Well... in either case, we're supposed to be leaving soon. Chris said that Lavi's fine, even though he almost reopened his gunshot wound," Cam said. She looked at Allen's magazine and made a face. They were all quiet for a few moments, the aftereffects of their ordeal finally settling on them.

"Where will we live?" Allen wondered out loud. He honestly didn't sound frightened, though. As an Exorcist, a lack of Akuma was already a big enough bonus. He could handle whatever this world threw at him.

"In a cardboard box," Lavi said. Cam rolled her eyes at his blunt answer.

"Gale says that she's going to ask her parents if she can move back in with all of us. I don't know how well that'll go over. You guys might have to bunk two to a room," Cam warned, but both the boys looked bright as the sun.

"We can sleep on beds?!"

"No more couches?!"

"...Dear lord, what is it like where you live?"

* * *

><p>Kanda sat on a stool by the sink with his leg propped up on a chair while Ashling wrapped it. He looked over at the mirror, trying not to wince at the terrible mess of his face. Though most of it was burned to a crisp (and crispy it was), he'd somehow managed to walk all the way back to her apartment undetected. Of course, he'd been accosted a few times on his way back by witches who'd sensed his presence, but he'd made short work of them.<p>

Temporarily, of course. If the TV was any indication, it wasn't hard to solve murders these days.

The sullen samurai and his fly-away teacher turned their heads the minute the door opened. Liam stood with his jaw set firm, his eyes flashing a dangerous emotion. Ashling, ready to defend... whatever it was she was defending, immediately stood, but Liam only had to raise a finger. Ashling shifted uncomfortably as Kanda looked up at Liam slowly.

Finally, she left, brushing his shoulder as she went. Kanda's leg was left half-wrapped, though already bits of skin were falling off, revealing an impossible new growth of pink flesh underneath. Liam leaned against the bathroom wall, and Kanda studied him as if he were assessing an Akuma.

Liam was not a thick man, but neither was he scrawny. His face was long and thin, a pointed nose accenting narrow eyes. His hair was thick and curly, almost reminiscent of an... an Epstein that Kanda had known.

"This won't become some sort of habit, will it?" Liam sighed, gesturing to Kanda's bum leg. Kanda didn't answer. He only stared.

"Look. Let me put it this way," Liam said. "I am concerned about me and my brood. Technically, now, you are my brood."

Kanda finally said, "Don't worry about it. I can take care of myself."

"Is this what you mean by 'take care of yourself?'" Liam asked. Kanda gave a dark chuckle.

"You have no idea."

It was quiet for a while before Liam said, "Okay, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to appear pushy or overbearing... I do have to warn you, though." He glanced at the door. It wasn't closed. Liam shook his head slightly.

"I don't say this because I have a bad sister. I say it because I think you have a right to know. She can be overenthusiastic. And I know that isn't from her, but that was my first thought, that there was an... an accident. If there's anything my sister tries to make you do that you feel is uncomfortable, you need to tell her and don't back off. If she does something and it scares you - I don't say this to belittle you, I mean it - run away as fast as you can. Ashling has no boundaries. She doesn't know limits," Liam said quietly, eyeing the floor.

Kanda chewed this over before coming right out with it.

"She can't talk or really hear because there was an accident. Am I right?" he said.

It was Liam's turn to stare.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **I am finally back, after such a long hiatus! I'm so sorry I was gone. I've been absolutely swamped these past few months. I appreciate the support you guys have given me in reviews and such, and I'm so glad you guys are interested in having this story back on line. I've recently gotten an A03 account, and I actually have a new story there as well. The user name is Jaxiferous, and hopefully you'll find things there pleasing to your reading.

Now: discussion questions! _Is there a large amount of subtext going on? Are the characters deep, or are they flat? How are the characters deep (or flat)? What was the best part of this chapter? Are there any cliches? Have the characters changed any, or has there been growth? Are the characters static? Does the narration have its own 'voice'? Or is it tedious to read? Is there humor? If there is, is it a natural sort of humor, or does it feel forced? Is there too much extraneous information? _

I love getting your feedback. It is the very lifeblood of what keeps me writing. I don't want praise, either - I want a critique. Praise is nice, but it doesn't help me get any better. With this story, you guys are pretty good at giving me insights about my own story, which is awesome.

Anyways, hopefully I'll get back to writing soon. God bless you and happy reading!


	10. The Never War

"Sheesh, I'm bored," Lavi muttered under his breath, propping his feet up on the coffee table. A hand suddenly swept them off as Allen passed by.

"Lavi, that's rude," Allen said as he walked to the window, and Lavi pouted, putting his feet back up on the tabletop.

"Whaaat? Come on, you can't tell me that you're not bored either," Lavi whined, leaning his head back. Even with that wonderful thing called the Internet, there just wasn't anything to _do. _

They had vacated the apartment, just as Miles had planned. In fact, they'd driven _all the way _from Wichita Falls up to a ranch outside of this dot on the map called Mangum, in the state of Oklahoma, which wasn't even a _thing _when Lavi and Bookman had last been to America. The only name it had had was "Indian Territory". Yet, here they were, in a state that was thriving.

Skitters, Miles' calico, meowed and pawed at Allen's pant leg, and the soft-hearted Exorcist picked up the feline with a smile. He began to rub the cat's head, and Skitters seemed to go limp as a wet noodle in his arms.

"We could go out and explore the property, I guess."

"We did that. There's nothing to see out there except for rolling hills, maybe two trees, and a couple of steer."

"We haven't looked out to the northern section yet!"

"Uuuugh, it's too hot. It's literally a hundred degrees outside. It doesn't even get that hot in Calcutta, India."

Lazily, Lavi picked up the television remote, made as if to push a button, and then finally threw it to the other side of the couch in frustration.

Lavi had already watched what seemed like hundreds of meaningless television shows, some ranging from the absolutely absurd to the downright mundane and back. He and Allen had 'educated' themselves quite thoroughly on this world's culture from their television programs, and they had to say- the world seemed to be in quite the sorry state. After all, what with women swinging naked on wrecking balls (something Lavi found hilariously vulgar and Allen found profane and horrific) and people screaming at each other in their plush, luxurious homes (what need have they to scream and yell? They weren't starving- though you couldn't tell from the way they looked), it was obvious that the moral standard of the world had declined. Though the program that showed them how certain items were made was truly informative and quite interesting...

However, he could only sit for so long doing nothing, and Allen was in quite the same predicament. After spending so many days doing nothing but lounging around, this vacation was becoming to resemble hell instead, especially if hell included reruns of the same things at night and boredom strong enough to split the skull.

"What's with you guys?" a voice said, and the two boys turned to look at the owner.

A tall man with silver and black hair stood in the doorway of the plush ranch house. He carried a brown bag in his arms and wore a rather loose work shirt and jeans.

"Hey dudes," Cam said from behind him, walking over to the counter to deposit another brown bag and head to the refrigerator for a drink that came in a pouch. Lavi had found that, to his disappointment, it only took two good sucks to down the entire thing, but it was an amusing storage device.

"So Dad totally crushed a scorpion in the driveway with the car cuz he saw it when he got out. Overkill, much?" Cam stated.

"It could've crawled into the house! You can never be too careful," Mr. Miles complained as he put his brown bag down on the counter in the kitchen. The two boys smiled at each other, looking in on this strange ritual of deprecation.

"We're bored out of our minds," Lavi complained dramatically, flinging himself at the couch. Allen rolled his eyes as he let Skitters down, and he added, "We've done the dishes, the laundry, and cleaned all the bathrooms. Nana is in bed right now with her four 'o clock headache, and thus far we've been without any sort of entertainment."

"You boys could've used the computer room, you know," Mr. Miles said as he put up the groceries with Cam. Allen proceeded to help, feeling guilty that he'd done (presumably) nothing to benefit the overall household with his presence.

"There is only so much footage of felines doing incredibly amusing things that I can take in a single sitting," the redhead confessed.

"Well, I'll tell you what, if you boys are so bored, I can have you load up the hay for me. A hundred bucks for each of you for the whole thing," Mr. Miles said.

Both Allen and Lavi stared at Mr. Miles with looks of incredulity. Their eyes seemed to bug out of their heads, and they remained speechless. The boys looked at each other with gleeful expressions.

"I'll head out right now!"

"Where are the work gloves?! Man, this is gonna be great!"

The two seemed a whirlwind as they gathered the necessary things before heading straight out the door towards the bales of hay on the western section of the ranch.

Cam and Mr. Miles were left staring at the spots they'd vacated with looks of bewilderment.

"What... did I say?"

"Dad, I already told you. They're from England. They're weird like that. It's, like, opposite land over there."

* * *

><p>"A hundred bucks," Lavi panted. "A <em>hundred <em>whole United States dollars. Allen- think about it!"

"Oh, trust me, I'm aware! Though... I wonder, isn't that too much for this sort of work?" Allen gasped as he grabbed the bale of hay that Lavi handed to him. The truck with the trailer on the end was pulled up to the hay. Lavi had to admit that using such a luxurious vehicle for such a menial task seemed strange in his mind, but he wasn't going to deny that it wasn't nice. Mr. Miles had even let him drive the car. There were so many buttons, adjusters, and knobs that Lavi had thought he'd stepped foot in some sort of strange science fiction vehicle, which it basically was. Allen had also gotten to drive, but only once.

After nearly ramming into one of the only trees on the property, Mr. Miles had thought it best that Allen not be allowed to drive for a little while. Lavi felt that it was more for Mr. Miles' heart's sake than for Allen's lack of driving capabilities.

"Oh, come on, Allen. Can't you just take the gift without having to look the gift horse in the mouth? Besides, we're working, aren't we?" Lavi complained as he handed another bale of hay to Allen. They were heavy bales, too, and both boys were shining with sweat underneath the hot, Oklahoman sun. The dryness of the air made it that much worse, turning the spit in their mouths to ash and sapping their bodies of energy like the worst of any witch.

"Well, I suppose... Here, let's retire for a moment after this one, I'm parched," Allen suggested as Lavi handed him what seemed like the umpteenth bale of hay.

Afterwards, the both of them sat on the trailer's end, feet swinging off towards the red dirt.

"What would you buy with a hundred bucks? If we were back home?" Lavi asked.

Allen thought about it for a moment. He had never truly thought that before. After all, money was no object to him, despite the frequent running gag in his life of recurring debts that _he _had not even incurred. Though Allen enjoyed shopping a great deal, he never thought of shopping for himself. He was much more interested in seeing what joy he could bring someone else with his income. He suddenly smiled as he thought of something he'd last seen when they were... well, when they were home.

"Perfume. I'd buy perfume and several different sorts of ribbons and maybe a pair of those nice, buckled shoes..."

Lavi gave him an odd look, raising a single quizzical eyebrow.

"Uh... That was not what I expected. Have you been reading those girlish pulp novels in the bathroom? The ones with the men in tight jeans?"

"What? No! What ever are you think- Oh! _Lavi!_"

"It's a legitimate question! Maybe there's something about the water here that makes you feel, I dunno, freer or something-"

"No, no, not for _me. _I wouldn't want ribbons and perfume and - how can you think that?!"

Lavi smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head, thankful for the bandana keeping his hair out of his face. He wiped his forehead and took a deep breath.

"You're just a little effeminate sometimes. That's all I'm going to say. It was all the rage in Edo before it collapsed," Lavi sighed. "It's... It's seen differently here. I mean, in Europe they would've crucified you upside down and sideways - in some places, literally..."

Allen looked down at his shoes, the strange rubber ones that he'd seen on so many other young men. They were incredibly comfortable, but they lacked a certain class that Allen was predisposed to. He preferred men's dress shoes as well as boots. Lavi, on the other hand, had a pair of rather large worker's boots he'd picked up from Mr. Miles, who was around Lavi's six foot height. Allen had honestly never even thought of the... freedom this world had with who they loved, and honestly he'd never truly taken an interest. It was of no concern to him, though he found it oddly disconcerting. Was he really effeminate?! He did love flowers, but surely that wasn't a new thing with men...

"Then if they're not for you, who're they for?" Lavi asked as he looked out over the empty plain. In the distance, there was a stand of trees to the north, the one part of the property they had yet to see. According to Gale, there was a rather large stream bed there that could be followed all they way to a deep valley hollow where old witch rituals had been held. Perhaps that was why Lavi and Allen had held off on seeing that portion of the property.

Lavi had an idea already, of course, for who all these items were for. His idea was further validated when Allen suddenly blushed profusely, and he hid his face by scratching his head, blocking Lavi's view with his arm. Lavi slowly smiled, and he leaned back to stare at the blue-white sky.

"Lenalee?"

"What ever gave you that idea?"

"You look like you're about to gush blood out of your nostrils."

"That's absurd!"

"What? I saw it on some Japanese animation footage. It indicates you like a girl!"

"I do not _like-"_

"Aw, can it, Allen, it's about as obvious as an elephant wearing a brassiere."

Allen was shocked by the sudden vehemence in Lavi's voice as the Bookman Junior stared out over the flat landscape. He stared at Lavi for a little bit. Allen furrowed his brow in worry. Lavi could have mercurial spells like this where he had sudden outbursts of emotion. Typically, it meant he'd either touched a raw nerve or something was bothering him. Lavi was much more emotional than he liked to let on. Though the interruption was mostly said in a joking style, he could feel the sourness in the words, like an apple not yet ripe.

"You like... _liked _her too?" Allen asked hesitantly.

Lavi seemed to chew the question over, opening his mouth several times as if searching for the words. He let loose a rush of breath.

"...At one point in time. Not anymore, of course. She's more like... I dunno, my little sister or my cousin or something now," Lavi admitted, scratching the side of his nose.

Allen played with a piece of hay, looking down at his black, almost charred hand and his normal one right next to it. It suddenly hit him, and he smiled sadly.

"You wished you had told her," Allen said.

"No! No, no, no, I'm glad I didn't. I can't, or... couldn't. I coudn't do that to her," Lavi said pensively, turning to Allen. "But I wish you had. She needs to know someone loves her, besides that maniac of a brother she's got. You would've been great for her."

Allen looked at Lavi with something like shock. Lavi, giving relationship advice? And relationship forecasts? The man was a master at gossip, but this was something else all together.

"Why couldn't you... couldn't you tell her?" Allen asked, letting the piece of hay float away in the hot, summer wind. Lavi's hair ruffled, as well as Allen's.

"I'm a Bookman. I could've been gone the very next day. That's no way to base your relationship. Love should be struck in concrete and rebar, not in sand," Lavi said sagely. "What sort of life would she have been left with if I'd started something, and then the very next day ended up on the other side of the world, documenting some other war?"_  
><em>

Allen stared at the ground. Sometimes, he'd honestly forgotten about the fact that Lavi's status as Exorcist was very temporary. He could never imagine living a life where he couldn't form attachments, make close bonds with the people he fought with and cried with. Allen was a very softhearted, compassionate person who was easily bruised by way of his soul. He had been afraid of forming connections, though, after becoming an Exorcist. So, in a way he and Lavi weren't so different. Allen could've died any day- and that was something he couldn't do to Lenalee either. He couldn't leave a hole that big in her.

"I couldn't do it either. Does that make us cowards?" Allen asked. The yellow grass swayed like the waves of a massive, terrestrial sea.

"Maybe. I don't know," Lavi stated. "I still love her. Not the same way, but... I mean, I love her. She was good to me. I tried to be good to her. I remember... Lord... There was that time when we were at sea with Miranda, and I thought... I dunno, I thought she'd died. Allen, I never felt something so horrible in my life as when I held her and thought that she might have died."

Allen's eyes widened.

"When was this?"

"You were... oh."

Allen looked down at his hands. She'd come that close to dying...? And where had he been? Recovering from a wound that was supposed to have killed him, all because he'd been foolish and soft, trying to... trying to save Suman and...

"No, no, Allen! It's not your fault. Trust me, it wasn't anyone's fault! Well, the Earl's maybe, but..." Lavi tried to explain, but Allen shook his head.

"What's... what's past is past, you know? Just... I wish I could've been there," Allen sighed to himself, looking up at the sky. Lavi clapped a hand on his shoulder.

"Trust me, I think she'd been hoping that, too," Lavi said.

It was quiet for a few more moments, the only sound the whistling of the wind over the grasses.

"What would you buy with a hundred dollars back home?" Allen asked curiously.

Lavi suddenly grinned wide.

"How much do you think one of those Barcelona women costs for a night?"

"Lavi!"

"What?! It's a legitimate question!"

* * *

><p>"...And this is the carburetor. It mixes the air and the gas in the tank so that it can get flushed into the engine where it's used to drive it with a small explosion, which is what these are for: spark plugs. They start the chain reaction by making a small spark," Liam Smithson said. Kanda looked over the mess of metal internal organs, the inside of the automobile a mass of interconnecting hoses, fixtures, and strange parts.<p>

"And you expect me to learn all this in a week?" Kanda asked seriously, his dark gaze staring at Liam with raised eyebrows. Liam gave him a challenging look.

Kanda was dressed in a black tank top and a pair of jeans that were a size too big around the waist, cinched tight with a belt. His hair was loosely put up in a bun to keep it out of the way. He'd learned the hard way that hair had a tendency to get trapped on things in the garage, and it wasn't safe to have it free floating as was his usual wont.

He scratched the back of his head as he stared at the guts of the car, some of them splayed on tables and the other parts in the front cavity of the car.

"Fine. Might as well make myself useful somehow," he muttered under his breath, taking up a manual and shooting a look at Liam. The Irish mechanic smiled as he wiped his hands on an oily rag and left the dour Japanese man to his machinations. Kanda had just started to process the first few sentences of the manual when the weight of an entire body leaned against his back, and he sighed, rubbing his nose.

_Soooo, what're you doing? _Ashling buzzed through his ear with a squeeze and tug of his earlobe.

"Shut up and go away. Do your witch stuff."

_Awwww, come on, you haven't taken on a new lesson since Friday! I promise not to shrink your pants this time._

Ashling gave him a pout, looking over his shoulder at the car manual sitting on his knee. She frowned as she skimmed a few lines.

_You understand any of this? _

Kanda shifted uncomfortably on his stool, readjusting the book. He remained silent, a more telltale sign than if he'd ever said anything. She made a face of sympathy.

_You don't, do you? _

"Ashling. Go. Away," Kanda growled under his breath. Typically, he would've shooed her off with his sword or some such implement, but Liam had denied him any sort of weapon while in the garage. Not to mention, he didn't know what he'd knock over if he tried to remove her forcefully. Still, she was beginning to be a pain in his rear end.

Reluctantly, Ashling stopped leaning on his back, and she walked away, leaving Kanda to sulk on his own. He stared at the words on the page in front of him.

They swam like alphabet soup in front of his eyes, the words seeming to jump places and the sentences refusing to stay still. He would have much better preferred the manual to be in Chinese, but English was what they had and English was what he would work with. Yet, Kanda could feel the limits of his brain like elastic bands stretched to their max. He hadn't been schooled in much English, just enough to read signs and documents. This was a totally different English all together, and he was struggling.

After nearly thirty minutes of trying to decipher a single paragraph, Kanda slammed the manual shut and slammed it on a table. He rubbed his temples with his long fingers, and he sighed through his nose. He looked out of the garage where two kids were playing in the concrete lot that housed some of the cars. One was an older girl with a younger brother, the two of them kicking a rubber ball around.

Suddenly, Kanda felt a pathos build inside of him, watching the two kids laugh and play with something so simple. His toys had been a sword and small fishing rod he'd made of bamboo. He felt as if he were watching something he'd missed, a moment in time he might've had.

"Oi, you okay, mate?" Caughney, another Smithson brother, asked from the doorway. Kanda looked up, not at all surprised by the teenage boy's presence.

"Sure," Kanda grunted, getting up from his chair. The day was hot, and he was sweating buckets in this heat. The two kids in the yard, how could they play when it was over a hundred degrees? He didn't understand it.

"Miles is here to talk to you," Caughney stated quietly. Kanda stared out at the yard a moment longer before he moved towards the door.

She sat in the living room on the plush sofa. Kanda had been sleeping there for several nights, and he had to say that it was better than half the beds he'd slept in working for the Order and traversing God's green earth. She was sipping a cup of hot coffee, despite the heat, and she looked as if she hadn't slept in days. Kanda couldn't blame her. He couldn't sleep either.

The _ergomund _kept penetrating his mind late at night. He wasn't sure why, and he didn't know how, but he always felt as if something, a massive eye, were watching him in his sleep. And... most of all, Alma reappeared, always smiling and always bloodied. Kanda had had little sleep, but then again he didn't exactly need much sleep. He didn't need much of anything, really, besides a ton of food to keep his horrible metabolism running. He was almost always hungry...

"What are you doing here?" Kanda growled, standing over her, not deigning to sit. His eyes were cold and hard, obsidian chips. Miles, with her crooked nose and hazel eyes, looked up at the Japanese man with a look of exhaustion. It hit him for a minute that there really was no reason to heckle her, but he felt he'd already made his point. No use trying to fix it now.

"Been tracking down some things here, and I'm setting up another set of living arrangements. This one's definitely nicer-"

"I'm not living with you," Kanda growled.

"Yeah, I know," Miles muttered under her breath. She looked into her coffee cup, and Kanda finally sat down in an armchair next to the coffee table. He didn't understand the need for the low table, seeing all it was used for was storing crap and accumulating rings from the myriad of drinks that got left on its wooden surface, but he couldn't complain about the armchair. If there was anything Kanda wanted to take back with him, it was the armchair.

"Anyhow... I just wanted to tell you that Allen, Lavi, and the old man are okay."

"Mm."

"And that they're gonna be enrolled in school."

"Mm."

"And... We think that the gangs might target you, and soon," Miles said with a tight expression, putting the coffee cup on the battered table. Kanda stared at her.

"I can handle them."

"I don't think you understand, Yu, is that your-"

"_Don't you ever call me that again."_

Miles' eyes widened with surprise at the vehemence and venom in Kanda's voice. The younger man stared at her with enough heat to fry an egg. Ashling suddenly intruded with a flounce of her hair and a tray of delectable finger foods that Liam must've whipped up or had in the fridge. She looked between Miles and Kanda hesitantly before placing a hand over Miles'. They looked into each other's eyes, and Miles' once again looked surprised, flicking her gaze to Kanda.

"I'm... I'm sorry, I didn't mean any offense. I hadn't realized it would make you upset. I just wanted to tell you to be real careful these days, 'kay? It's high time for the gangs and the guys selling dope, weed, crystal meth, - you don't know what any of that is. Sorry. Just... it's gonna get hot here for a while right before school starts," Miles explained.

Ashling did a few hand signs, and Kanda never relaxed in the chair, realizing what they were implying.

"I won't go out and make trouble. Trouble tends to find me," Kanda said defiantly, crossing his arms and staring out the window.

Miles stared at him for a little while longer before turning to look at Ashling. The redhead shrugged her shoulders. Miles sighed and stood up.

"Alright. I believe you. Just... just be careful, okay? It's not going to look good when they find out an undocumented immigrant died and was in my care at the time, capiche? If you've got any issues, call me," Miles said, heading towards the door. After it had closed, Kanda stood up and began to walk towards the garage. Ashling followed.

"Look, I don't need any of your 'help' right now. I'll take up a magic lesson later," Kanda said to her, making sure she could see his face. Ashling crossed her arms in defiance as Kanda sat back down on the stool he'd vacated when Gale had come in. Ashling rolled her eyes when Kanda picked up the manual and began to read it again.

She began signing to him rather irately.

_Fine. Do what you want. Not my problem._

Kanda stared solidly into the book, picking apart each word practically letter by letter.

_The... car...carbur...carburetor... The carburetor fu... functions... as a... The carburetor functions as..._

There was a small noise by the garage door, and Kanda looked up with a swift flick of the eyes, never moving his head. His first instinct was to grab at his waist, only to realize his sword was gone.

A Hispanic kid, probably 14 or 15, stood by the garage door. Realizing he'd been spotted, he ran off. Kanda looked up fully, staring at where the kid had stood for several more seconds before shaking the event out of his mind. He went straight back to his book.

It was going to be a long, hot day.

* * *

><p><em>The smell of burning flesh in the air, thick as a mealy soup, bitter to the tongue. He sloshed through the water with thick boots on, trying to ignore the crunching noises underneath. The moon was a massive, bright orb hanging over their heads, and he breathed out, a cloud of white. It was so cold. Their clothes floated, tan cloaks empty of any form within, and he tried to pick one up, but his hands just went straight through. No matter what he did, his hands just went into the water, through the cloak as if it had never been. He started to shake with cold, realizing how frigid the air was. His eyes strayed to the water, looking at its murky grayness, the ash floating on top like the oil in a soup. He swallowed.<em>

_"Why couldn't I save you?"_

_The heaps stood out like mountains in the calf-deep water, self-destructed demons. He'd heard their screams, known that they'd died in vain. He felt his heart lurch, realizing someone was behind him.  
><em>

_"Yes... why couldn't you save any of them?"_

_That grandfatherly voice, old and sonorous in this bleak night. He felt something press through his chest, and when he looked down there was the sword. It was thick and black, a white stripe through it to form a crucifix. _

_"You can't save anyone. Am I right?"_

He opened his eyes slowly. When he realized he was no longer in a dream, he sat up in his bed, clutched at his chest, and began to hyperventilate. Though they were no longer in that world, the demons wouldn't go away. These weren't the usual demons either, the type that could be done away with in the blink of an eye, the sweep of a boot, the majestic reach of a single claw. These were lingering, festering demons that liked to intrude the mind and worm inside the soul, rooting themselves deep. In waking, he could ignore them with the wonders of this world, but at night, alone with nothing but his mind and that little voice deep in the back of his head...

He buried his face into his hands, rubbing at his eyes and his cheeks in an attempt to rub away the nightmare. In the bed above him, Lavi snored softly, his hand dangling off the bunk before suddenly thrashing himself into a new position. He smiled softly, briefly as he remembered going on missions with him, the redhead tossing and turning in his sleep and making the bed creak like the joints of one decades old.

But the memory also brought to mind the many things they'd had to fight, the horrors they'd seen. He'd seen souls abused, countless souls trapped and bound. Their screaming had been seen, their pain had been displayed for him to see. He had witnessed, and he had proclaimed. Thinking of the poor souls strapped to those bodies of disgusting metal and guns, he wanted to throw up.

He curled up on his bed, thinking of the people who'd died, the people he'd been two seconds too late to save. There seemed to be too many to count, and now without them, even more would die. A horrible guilt seized him as he realized how much fun he'd been having here, enjoying the fruits of a world without that sort of suffering, not even giving a thought to the others they'd left behind.

He crawled out of the bed, and he stumbled to the kitchen, clutching his shoulder. His black hand, which he'd kept hidden under bandages (Mr. Miles had no idea who they were or where they were from, only that they were exchange students on hard times, and so he'd blamed the bandages on an accident), seemed to ache as he thought of the time it'd been so cruelly broken to pieces.

"Allen? What are you doing up, boy?" a familiar gruff voice said. He turned his head, rubbing his eyes of tears.

Bookman sat at the kitchen table with an electronic tablet, the likes of which Allen was seeing more and more frequently. He must have been reading something.

"N-nothing," Allen answered shakily, putting on a brave face. Bookman's eyes narrowed, but Allen didn't much care to explain himself.

Bookman suddenly put down the tablet with a sigh. Beside him sat a mug of something hot, no doubt coffee of some sort to keep him up. Bookman was notorious for staying up all night and sometimes sleeping off the day. With his bald-head, his kohl lined eyes, and his large ears, he appeared to be some sort of late-night vampire or some such. In that moment, Allen grieved heavily as he realized that he also missed Krowley more than he dared admit to himself.

"Come on. Walk with me," the elderly chronicler stated, and Allen blinked dully.

"I'm... I'm in pajamas," Allen laughed sardonically, staring at his loaned set of striped pants and loose t-shirt.

Bookman merely stared at him and walked towards the front door, pressing the code into the house's security system. The door opened, spilling moonlight into the house, and Allen idly followed, almost as if against his will.

Bookman stood out in stark relief against the sky, a miniscule man with a high, strange ponytail seeming to waggle in the wind. He no longer wore the Exorcist coat, instead opting for a rather long tunic he'd found somewhere in the mall, as well as Chinese styled pants. Without looking behind him, he waved for Allen to follow him. With slight trepidation, Allen followed behind.

Bookman headed towards the bales of hay that Allen and Lavi had put up just that day. He motioned for the boy to take a seat, and Allen climbed up to the top bale. Across the Oklahoma land, hills rolled lazily like the frozen waves of a massive ocean. The moon threw everything into bright contrast, and the little man hopped up to sit next to the boy.

They were quiet for quite a while, nothing but the hot wind giving sound to the night. Allen looked to the sky, his eyes tracking the stars. He suddenly pointed.

"There's Cassiopeia."

His hand moved what seemed like a fraction.

"That's Andromeda..."

Again, the hand moved.

"And that's Draco."

Bookman nodded.

"You're well-versed in your constellations, I see. Do you remember the myth?"

Allen was quiet, his eyes deep as the space above their heads.

"Cassiopeia was Andromeda's mother. She boasted of her beauty... and her land was stricken by the gods for her hubris. A sea serpent was to attack the waters of their port every day until Andromeda was given to it as an offering, a way of atoning for the hubris her mother possessed," Allen reiterated.

"And who are you... Allen?" Bookman asked.

Again, the quiet was stifling, almost seeming to drag the breath out of their lungs on a hot windy night.

"I felt like Andromeda," Allen admitted. "The Order... thought I was their shining star, and then we were attacked. Because of our pride. Except, Andromeda had Theseus. I have to- had... to save myself."

His white hair seemed to glow under the light of the moon, and he closed his eyes. He scrunched his face suddenly, a tear leaking underneath a lid.

"I had to save myself. And the serpent is still out there, but it can't touch me," Allen breathed. "But the port... Everyone else... Without an Andromeda to feed it..."

Bookman chuckled, and Allen looked at him with confusion.

"Allen, you need not fear for the Order without you. We-...They had survived long before you came, and I'm sure they will survive long after you leave. But... it is a more pressing matter that you cannot sleep even in the peace of life," Bookman said, suddenly pulling tobacco and a pipe out of his pocket. He tamped it down and lit it with a match, puffing circles into the air.

"What do you mean?" Allen breathed.

Bookman looked at him sidelong, and he shook his head. The smoke wafted through the air as Bookman breathed out.

"We will be here a long while, Allen. I'm sure you have figured that," Bookman stated bluntly, and Allen hung his head. The young man's hands clenched on top of the bale, crunching straws. Bookman paid no mind, or seemed not to.

"Even in our old world, we would have had to adapt to the end of a war. And I strongly believe the end of the war was coming, Allen," Bookman told him.

The boy looked at him.

"You did?"

"I've seen enough wars. I know when the end approaches. Allen, you must make peace with the demons that are up _here. _The ones on the outside don't exist here, and one day they won't exist where we come from, either," Bookman said, tapping Allen's temple. "The nightmares may never go away, but you can stop shaking at every sharp noise, twitching at the slightest pop, or jumping at a clang in the kitchen. They're gone, Allen."

The young man stared out across the expanse.

"I'd never thought that I would one day... live in a world where... the Akuma didn't exist," Allen teased out of his heart. He looked down at his hands. One of them had taken down countless enemies, yet here there were no enemies to be had except for the ones that played at the edges of his conscious mind. It was true, what Bookman had said. He jumped at shadows and stiffened at the merest sound of ripping. Just the sound of popping bubblegum put him on edge, forcing him to tamp down the instinct to activate his arm.

"Get some sleep," Bookman said with a gentle puff of his pipe. "Tomorrow has more hay waiting for you."

Allen slipped off the bale of hay, and Bookman watched the young man walk back to the house. He shook his head, wondering what he was doing, counseling that stripling.

But it hadn't escaped his head either, that they now lived in a world without Akuma, a place... to be remade. Bookman stared a the ground with a heavy mind.

And he ignored the guilty part of him that almost wished he didn't have to leave for a world of suffering.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Eeeeey, I got another chapter out, finally! Sorry for the long, long wait. I didn't mean to lag, but what with all the things coming up, I thought it'd be good to get some writing in a little bit.

Big thanks to anyone who's decided to stick with this despite the erratic updates! I know it's a little disheartening. Anyhow, instead of me posting questions, I want you to ask questions instead! I'll answer questions best I can next chapter or so! Also, give me your comments on characters, thoughts on possible topics, and other stuff you wanna see! I'm having issues thinking of the differences between the late 19th century and the 21st, like morals and such, and comments would really help out!

I'll post when I can. God bless you, and keep reading!


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